Touch
by ThisBirdTooHasFlown
Summary: Malfoy, after helping Harry, Ron, and Hermione escape from Malfoy Manor, finds himself accompanying them as they seek out the last of the horcruxes. However, Hermione is certain that he is hiding something... and he won't let anyone touch him...
1. Out of the Manor

This takes place during Deathly Hallows, as sort of a "what if...?" story. In this case, what if Malfoy, sickened by his fellow Death Eaters' cruelty and pushed to the brink by watching a schoolmate tortured, lashed out? Let's face it, he didn't seem particularly eager to help Voldemort's cause in that last book. To the contrary, it was almost as if he wanted to help Harry, but was too afraid to really act.

I am going to be referencing things that happened earlier in the book and series, so this story is probably best for those who have read book 7.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything... even an original or witty disclaimer. Poor me! Woe! *angst like Harry*

Chapter 1: Out of the Manor

Hermione crumpled to the floor of Malfoy Manor, pain coursing through her veins in waves of fire and chill. She knew she was screaming, (for her throat burned, too,) but she couldn't hear anything over the maddening buzzing in her head, her ears, her mind... She saw nothing but flashes of color and shadow. Her tortured mind could piece together no comprehensible thought, only the pain, pain, fiery, freezing pain, and the screaming buzz that had filled her mind.

Then there was only dark.

She was sure that she had fainted, perhaps, or even died, until she felt herself yanked up from the marble floor and thrown over a shoulder. She tried to protest, to get down, but she could barely move at all. She gave up, and slumped as the person holding her began to run, carrying her away.

Gradually she began to hear again. Voices were screaming all around, deep voices, shrill voices, snarls that made her bones ache.

"What happened?"

"Draco! Draco, where are you? Are you safe?"

"_Lumos_! _Lumos_, I said! What the devil is wrong?"

"Where is the girl? Where's that mudblood?"

She felt herself shake as she heard the last voice, a piercing, shrill voice. Her head spun. _Something dark_... _heavy eyelids_... _a sword_... all these came to mind with the voice, but everything was so fuzzy, so very out of focus. Her mind went into hysterics every time she mentally prodded any of these images too deeply.

She shuttered, and focused on the person holding her, instead. He (she assumed he was male,) was moving quickly, but taking small, unsteady steps. The steps of a blind man. The world was as dark to him as it was to her. He began descending a flight of stairs. She could hear him breathing in quick rasps, sucking the air desperately.

He was afraid.

Was he scared of that voice, that shrill screech? _She_ was. Maybe he was, too... maybe he even knew why he was scared of it, unlike her – but she couldn't let herself think about the voice anymore. It made her head throb too painfully.

Her captor stopped suddenly, and she could hear him running his hand over a wooden surface. With a click, a door opened, and he slipped inside, closing the door behind him. Then the darkness was gone, replaced with blurs of color that she couldn't focus on. Her eyes refused to work, but she heard voices again, voices she knew, voices she loved.

"Hermione!" gasped Harry, before Ron bellowed,

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU LOUSY-"

"Quiet! Please!" She heard another familiar voice, the voice of her captor, plead to no avail. Their yells only grew. She felt him shift beneath her, before he incanted, softy, "_Silencio_!" Harry and Ron became deathly silent. She felt herself lowered to the ground.

"She's fine, I think, just unconscious."

_No I'm awake..._ she thought, weakly. Shaking slightly, she raised herself into a sitting position. She gazed toward the voices, squinting, as her eyes began to clear a little. She saw a tall blond wizard nervously edging as far away as possible from her two friends. Of course, she already knew who he was. Draco Malfoy.

Ron, after considering Malfoy for a moment, (determining how much of a threat he was,) ran up to Hermione, crouching down beside her and giving her a quick hug. He said nothing, though, unable to talk.

Harry jumped at Malfoy, and tried to wrench the wand from his hand. Malfoy steped back and flicked his wand, paralysing him. Seeing this, Ron rose in protest, face turning red with contained yells. "You're untied," Malfoy stated nervously rubbing his hands together before turning to untie the other prisoners. "How?"

"They can't talk." Hermione whispered.

"Do you promise be quiet?" Malfoy whispered, glancing over his shoulder, biting his lip. Then he shook his head. "It'll have to wait. We have to go, now. I don't have time to answer questions or listen to explanations..." He looked up at Harry and Ron. Sighing, he flicked his wand at them, loosing their tongues and releasing Harry from his paralysis.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, squeezing her arm. She saw, her eyes almost clear now, that his face was red and streaked with tears.

"Are you alright?" Harry demanded, giving Malfoy a suspicious glare.

"Shh!" Malfoy hissed, staring at the door apprehensively. The threesome lowered their voices without question.

"Yes..." She began weakly, legs wobbling beneath her. She looked at the two boys beside her and wanted to cry; she loved them so much. "Yes, I'm fine, now."

"Enough with the sappy reunion." Malfoy snapped. "We've got to go. They'll be checking on you any minute, now." He reached for the door, when a loud _crack_ sounded through the room. Everyone jumped, especially Malfoy, who had seemed high-strung before. Now he looked ready for a heart attack.

"Dobby!" Harry called.

"Harry Potter, Dobby has come to rescue you!" Dobby was shaking fiercely, back in the home of his old masters. His eyes widened at the sight of Malfoy and he stepped back, emitting a small squeak. Malfoy stared at him blankly; if he recognized the elf, he didn't show it.

"Dobby, can you disapparate out of this cellar?"

Dobby nodded, still gazing at Malfoy in fear.

"And you can take people with you?" The elf nodded again, and shuffled toward Harry, who waved him away, toward Luna, Dean, Olivander, and Griphook. "Take them first, then come back for us. Take them to – take them to –"

"To Bill and Fleur's!" Ron interrupted. "Shell Cottage, on the outskirts of Tinworth!" Dobby nodded again, shuffling toward the other four prisoners.

Then footsteps drifted in from the stairway... _Thud! Thud! Thump-thump-thump-thump..._

"Someone's coming!" Ron muttered needlessly. All looked at each other.

"Dobby! Go with those four, and don't come back!" Harry ordered. Looking at the weak and barely conscious goblin he added, "Be very careful with Griphook."

Dobby looked up at him, large eyes even wider than normal. "But Harry Potter!"

Dean and Luna both stood up. "We want to help you!" Luna whispered.

Dean nodded in agreement, adding, "We can't leave you here!"

"Go, all of you! Now!"

"I'll get them out." Malfoy said, looking at the floor stiffly. Dobby trembled in fear at his voice, however, seeing that Harry didn't argue, nodded.

The footsteps stopped, and the doorknob rattled. "Go! We'll meet up at Bill and Fleur's, I promise!" Harry spoke quickly. With a sad glance and loud _crack_, Dobby, Luna, Dean, Olivander, and Griphook were gone.

Malfoy, still gripping his wand, stood in front of the door as it opened. "_Stupify_!" He hissed, watching as Wormtail stumbled into the room, falling to the floor, unconscious. He was trying to look calm, but Hermione could hear his shallow breathing. Without a word, he reached back and grabbed Hermione's arm, and whispered to the three of them, "Follow my lead... link arms or something, it should still be dark out there."

"Why should we trust you?" Ron asked accusingly.

"We have no other choice." Harry snapped. Hesitantly, Ron grabbed Hermione's other hand and caught Harry's arm. After Malfoy saw that they were all linked, he led them out of the dungeon into the black hall.

"What is this?" Harry whispered.

"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, now shut _up_, or we'll be heard!"

Malfoy guided them through the blackness – except it wasn't so black anymore. More dark grey, with outlines of solid objects visible. Hermione could hear voices all around them, none close, but all hostile. She could feel Malfoy's shaking hand through the thick fabric of her robes.

He stopped in several places, (doorways, Hermione imagined,) listening to the voices, trying to find a safe way out. With every stop, with every blocked exit, his breathing grew more rapid, his moves more jerky, his steps more rushed. Finally he stopped completely. The recognizable voice of Lucius Malfoy, his father, could be heard nearby, getting closer. The younger Malfoy took a few hesitant steps, before breaking into a run, dragging Harry, Ron, and Hermione behind him.

Hermione almost tripped as he began climbing a flight of stairs.

Up they went, leaving the darkness below them. Higher and higher. Hermione, later, wouldn't be able to remember the first thing about that stairway, whether it was made of marble, of wood, if it was carpeted... She only remembered climbing it, desperately, pulled by an even more desperate Malfoy.

"Where are we going?" Ron hissed, after climbing perhaps four stories. "We can't get out from up here!"

"Shh! They had the all the exits down there blocked... and I know a way out from up here." Malfoy's voice was very dry, and trembled slightly.

"How do we know it isn't a trap?" Ron shot. He got no answer. Instead, Malfoy pulled them down a dark hallway, ran to the end, and turned onto a very narrow, unfurnished stairwell. They all flew up it.

At the top of the stairs they found themselves in an attic filled with boxes. Light entered the room from a large, dusty window. Malfoy released Hermione's arm, stumbled to a box, opened it, and grabbed an armful of broomsticks.

"Old models..." He explained absently, handing brooms to the three of them.

"Hermione doesn't like flying, she'll go with me." Ron said, handing a broom back. Malfoy nodded, then stuffed the extra broom back into the box.

Harry fingered his broom, looking worried. Suddenly his head shot up, and he cried, "We forgot the Gryffindor's sword! They still have it!"

"That was the real sword?" Malfoy looked up disbelievingly, eyes widening as Harry nodded. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, sighing. "There's nothing that I can do." So saying, he broke the window with his broom handle, clearing a large enough hole to fly out of. He winced heavily as the great, terrible crash echoed through the mansion.

Faraway, thuds could be heard... someone climbing the stairs.

Harry took off first, shooting out of the window and hovering nearby. Ron followed, Hermione seated behind him, arms tight around his middle. They waited for Malfoy.

He didn't come.

"Oi, Malfoy, we have to go!" Ron shouted.

The footsteps were closer.

They all looked at the blond boy, standing before the broken window, face paler than normal and hands trembling. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, biting his lip, and pulled the broom under him. He narrowed his eyes determinately, and – froze. Then slumped.

"Malfoy?" Hermione called, hesitantly.

"Come _on_!" Harry yelled, slapping his broom handle for emphasis.

"I-" his voice broke, "I can't..." he muttered weakly. "I should stay..."

"You can't! You helped us... they'll kill you!" Hermione shouted, terror filling her. She remembered what had happened to her, minutes before... They had no mercy. She had just been a muggle-born to them, who might possibly know something about Gryffindor's sword. What would they do to a traitor?

"No... I'll say I was under a curse, – t-the Imperious Curse – and they'll believe me and I'll be fine and my father wouldn't let me die and..." He babbled, eyes wide from fear, staring out the window into the unknown world, the weight of his betrayal just begining to register.

The footsteps had stopped, but, faintly, the floor below, a voice could be heard, saying in a sickening sing-song voice, "Where are you? I know I heard-" Bellatrix. Unmistakably. Hermione shuttered against Ron.

"You have to come!" Harry shouted.

"No, I... n-no." He lowered the broom, tossing it aside. He was shaking all over, now, and his narrow chest's rapid rising and falling testified of his panicked, shallow breathing.

"_Malfoy_!" Hermione yelled, pleaded. Harry edged his broom toward the window. Malfoy took a few steps back, turned, and ran. His footsteps staggered down the stairway.

"We have to go, Harry," Ron called, "with or without Malfoy."

They took off, trying not to look back. "Aunt Bella, I... Hey, wait–!" could be faintly heard as they flew off, before the whistling wind overpowered the voices.

Hermione leaned into Ron, sobbing, whispering, "The git, the coward, oh that stupid, idiotic coward..." over and over, like a chant, an incantation... like a spell.


	2. Don't Touch

Disclaimer: Yes, it's a new day. Yes, it is springtime, and yes, change is in the air. However, some things will not change, ever, like the fact that I still don't, and never shall, own Harry Potter.

Chapter 2: Don't Touch

Hermione clung to Ron as they flew away from the manor, sobbing quietly into his shirt. Her thoughts were jumbled and contorted; she didn't even know what she was crying for. Was it for Malfoy? She didn't _know_ he was in trouble. Was it the memory of her torture? Was it the loss of the sword, the hopelessness of the task ahead of them? Maybe it was all three, together, mingling. It didn't really matter, she simply cried, tears disappearing into the fabric of Ron's shirt.

Harry flew in front of them, a look of grave determination plastered across his face. Hermione knew that the past months had been a strain to him, though he refused to show it. They had been a strain to all three of them. Hermione felt taxed, mentally, emotionally, and physically. She almost felt hollow now, as if she had nothing more to give to anyone. It just didn't seem fair – they were only seventeen! Their biggest worries should be who-has-a-crush-on-who, and test scores, and all that... not the rise of Lord Voldemort!

She was brought out of her thoughts by a yelp. Before she could even look up to see what was the matter, Ron had pushed their broom into a steep dive and, with a jolt, grabbed a falling Harry by the arm. The broom, which wobbled dangerously supporting the weight of all three of them, began to sink to the ground.

"What happened?" Ron grunted, trying to improve his grip on his friend's arm.

"I don't know, it was like I hit a wall or something!" They all looked down at Harry's broom, which lay mangled, handle shattered, across one of the hedges that lined the inside of the fences around the estate. The three of them passed around a look of concern. "Did Malfoy forget to tell us something?" Harry asked.

Their broom continued to sink lower, closer and closer to the earth. "Can't you steer us down quicker?" Harry asked. "We aren't exactly hidden here... they might find us."

"Sorry," grunted Ron, "My hands are tied up, and I don't think I could land safely. 'Specially with all three of us weighing the broom down." He smiled grimly. So they all waited as they drifted downward.

Finally they touched ground, close to the edge of the estate. They ran up to one of the tall hedges. "Hey, Ron, let me see that broom." Harry said. He mounted and took off, flying up above the hedge and fence, and reached out. His hand met something solid, an invisible wall between them and escape. For a moment the three were silent. Harry slammed a fist into the barrier in despair.

"What'll we do?" Hermione whispered. The front gate was probably guarded. They couldn't disapperate; they had no wands. "I don't suppose we could get under the fence?" She asked miserably.

"No... this looks like in continues underground." Harry replied darkly. "Besides, we can't exactly dig a tunnel without magic."

They all looked at each other. It was only a matter of time before they were caught.

"Oi! Over here!"

"Was that... Malfoy?" Harry asked, disbelievingly. They looked around, seeing no one. Hermione saw something pale dart behind an intricately carved statue. She ran up to it, but no one was there.

"Come on! This way!" Once again, she saw something ahead, a tall figure next to the hedges. She began running toward it, with Harry and Ron at her heels. However, when she got there, she couldn't see anyone. She looked around, confused. "Get into the hedges!" Hermione crouched, and, sure enough, she saw Malfoy's very irritated face leering at her.

Harry and Ron were already climbing into the shrubs. Hermione followed, avoiding snags and thorns. They found themselves in something of a crawl space, between the trunks of the hedges and the fence. "Hurry! This way!" Malfoy called from ahead. They began working their way toward his voice, hoping that he had a good plan to get them out.

"I thought – I thought you were a goner! What happened in there?" Ron asked quietly.

"Shh!" Malfoy hissed. "Stories later!" His voice was rough and forced.

They crawled in silence for a while, until they heard Malfoy, outside the hedge. "Stop here. The gate's just ahead." he whispered horsely. "They've got Fenrir Greyback in front. You stay here. I'll get him to leave." Then he was gone again.

None of them dared to talk. For what seemed like forever, but probably wasn't even a full minute, they crouched in the dirt, knowing that the the bloodthirsty Greyback was nearby. If Hermione closed her eyes, she could almost hear his heavy breathing. "_Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her? I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, ginger?_" The memory made her cringe.

Finally they all heard a shout from across the estate. "They're over here! I've found Potter and the others!" Hermione knew it was Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, but he sounded eerily like his father.

After a few seconds, they heard Malfoy, much softer, say, "Draco Malfoy, leaving the estate." With a creak, the gates swung open. "Go. I'll join you in a while." He whispered through the hedges.

"But _where_ do we go?" Harry asked. No answer.

They all crawled out of the hedges and looked around, but Malfoy was gone. "That was strange-" Ron began, but he was cut off by Harry.

"Talk later!" he whispered, grabbing Ron's arm and pulling him toward the gate, which was starting to close. The three of them sprinted, slipping through the wrought iron doors before they slammed shut. Without stopping, they ran along the fence, turned a corner, and ducked down to the ground, hidden from view by the fence and hedges. Safe for now.

Breathing heavily, Hermione looked out at the countryside. The land was a thin shade of green, spring beginning to edge in. It was empty, and a little hilly. Some farmland, some shrubs. Nowhere, really, to hide. "We have to get moving," she said softly. "We need to be far away before they realize we got off the estate."

"But what about Malfoy?" Harry asked. "He said he'd meet us out here, and he needs to clear a few things up." he hit the ground in emphasis. Glancing at Hermione's bag, he added, "And we need to talk about the sword."

"But Harry-" she stopped abruptly when she heard voices from the other side of the fence.

"Look, broomsticks!"

"That one's in pretty rough shape. Hit the shield spell, I imagine."

"Think it's Potter?"

"Of course.

"But there are only two brooms here! We've got seven missing prisoners. Or are some of them still in the manor?" Hermione listened as they debated, growing more and more anxious, even though the two Death Eaters didn't seem close to finding them.

"What are you guys _doing_? Why are you still here?" Malfoy hissed, rounding the corner of the fence, adjusting his light grey robe around his shoulders.

"Malfoy!" Harry called out, reaching to grab his shoulder. "How did you get out? I didn't hear the gate open."

Malfoy took a large step away from Harry, dodging the hand, brushing his robe again. "Oh. I just flew over... My broom's over there." He pointed to a place around the corner.

"How? We couldn't... there was some kind of charm up. Wasn't there?"

Malfoy looked confused. "A charm?" He asked, biting his lip.

"Yeah, some sort of shield charm."

"Well..." Malfoy started hesitantly, "I'm a Malfoy... maybe it didn't block me because of that. You know. Resident of the manor." He seemed uncertain, but left it at that.

"You're coming with us?" Hemione asked.

Malfoy nodded, looking down. "I don't want to intrude - really, I'm not just being polite, I don't -" he scowled. "But I really have no choice right now. I can't..." He trailed off, slumping. "I was planning on joining you for a while."

"You're wearing odd clothing for this sort of thing." Hermione commented, examining his robes. He was dressed in white and grey, his pale robes covering his pure white shirt and light trousers. "Aren't dark colors better?"

"I didn't give it much thought, I just needed something warmer," he rapidly explained, before continuing, "We have to get out of here. Why haven't you guys disapparated? Eavesdropping?" he scowled, pointing a thumb in the direction of the arguing Death Eaters behind the fence. "You need to get going. Those idiots don't know anything. Don't waste your time."

"Can't disapperate. We don't have wands." Ron said.

Malfoy cursed. "They don't have wands. _Idiot._ But what..." he mumbled to himself. "Well..." He glanced around, nervously tapping his finger on his leg. He paused, considering. "Follow me." he suddenly ordered, turning around and running, not even pausing to make he was being followed. Hermione stumbled to her feet and ran after him, behind Harry and Ron.

"We need to get to the back." Malfoy explained shortly while they panted.

They ran along the fence, which continued to stretch out ahead of them, ludicrously long. "How big is the blasted Manor?" Ron gasped. He wasn't answered.

Finally they rounded the corner. Hermione stumbled to a stop, breathing heavily.

Behind the estate, thin trees dotted the gentle hills. Malfoy waited as the others caught up, before taking off into the trees.

Hermione followed, glancing back at the manor. She could just barely see the roof over the fence. She bit her lip, turned, and ran like mad. She watched Malfoy, Ron, and Harry in front of her, paying only enough attention to her feet to avoid tripping.

The trees grew thicker and thicker around them.

Nothing was said. They were, all four of them, gravely silent, save for their labored breaths.

Finally Hermione stopped, gasping. "I – I think..." she panted, "That we're far – far enough away for now." she doubled over, trying to catch her breath.

When she looked up, Harry and Ron had stopped just ahead. They, too, were out of breath. She couldn't see Malfoy anywhere.

"Where are we?" gasped Harry. "Is it anywhere near Tinworth?"

"I don't – don't know." Hermione added quietly. "We could be in southern Cornwall, I guess. That's pretty close..." But she wasn't convinced. They _could_ be in Cornwall. Or Shropshire, or New Forest, or France... she didn't know.

They sat in silence for a while, catching their breaths. Time passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour. Soon they were breathing normally again. Despite the strenuous run, Hermione didn't feel tired in the slightest. She couldn't help but feel thrilled at their escape. She smiled fondly at her two friends. They had made it. They were safe. But Malfoy was still missing... She bit her lip, worry crossing her mind.

"Where's Malfoy?" She finally asked.

"I don't know." Harry said slowly, looking around. "I know he stopped with us, but..." He trailed off. "I don't know." he finished, shaking his head.

Hermione jumped to her feet lightly, feeling energized by her reclaimed freedom. "I'll go look for him." She suddenly felt positively giddy. They were free! She lightly took a few steps into the trees. "Hey, Malfoy! Malfoy?"

No answer. She walked a bit further in no particular direction, listening. Nothing, just the creaking of trees and the light breathing of her two friends behind her. "Malfoy?" she called again. She stopped about fifty feet away from where Harry and Ron where resting, and began to circle them, calling out every now and then, "Malfoy? Hello?"

After she had worked her way a bit deeper into the forest, she heard a noise drifting through the air. It was a good distance away; at first she couldn't even tell what it was. She only knew that it wasn't the trees. She walked toward it, slowing her pace. "Malfoy?" She called softly.

As the noise grew, she could tell it was breathing. Heavy, rapid, wet breathing. Animal. It was the dizzying breathing of a terrified animal.

Then she heard a sob.

She quickened her pace, starting to jog.

The first thing she saw was his face. He was pale. He was always pale, she supposed, but it was nothing compared to now, his face practically white, his lips squeezed into a tight line, the only color being the washed-out red around his eyes.

He was leaning against a rock, knees pulled up to his chest, rocking forward and back with every deep, rattling breath. He stopped rocking to run his hand through his disheveled hair, over and over, gasping at the air, before pulling into himself again, rocking, lurching, back and forth, back and forth...

"Malfoy!" she cried, running up next to him, crouching down. "What's wrong – are you hurt?" She reached a hand to his shoulder. "Tell-"

"Get away!" he roared, scrambling from her, leaping to his feet. He stood for a moment, looking back at her, panic in his eyes, chest heaving. His light hair was sticking in all directions, wild. When he spoke again his voice was rough, but very quiet. "Don't – don't touch me."

Neither moved. Hermione gazed at him, afraid and confused. "Why? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Later," he grunted. He turned away.

"Harry and Ron and I were – were worried. Um, could you come back to-?" She looked at him pleadingly. "Please... we're all scared, and-"

"I'll be there in a while." he said, flat and dull sounding. He wasn't looking at her, concentrating on the mud beneath his feet.

"Okay." She tuned and began to walk away. After a few steps, she began to jog. Finally she broke into a run, moving back to where Harry and Ron sat, calm and welcoming.

She sat down beside them wordlessly.

"Hermione! Did you find him?" Ron asked, nudging her shoulder. She flinched at his touch.

"Yeah. He said he'd be back in a little while." she said, leaning back and sighing. Ron and Harry gave her questioning looks.

"Um, are you okay?" Harry asked. "Did anything happen?"

"Did that rat say something to you?" Ron growled, grabbing her arm and forcing her to face him. "If he did, you tell me, and I will-"

"No, no... just tired." she sighed, pulling herself away from Ron, reclining against a tree. "Just tired. I think we all are." Her friends nodded and backed off, though they did not seem convinced. Not by a long shot.

After a long silence, Malfoy walked through the trees. He looked better. He had some color to his cheeks now, and he had tried to smooth his hair.

Ron glared at him suspiciously. "There you are!" Harry called elbowing Ron in the gut. "You have some questions to answer. Now."

Malfoy sniffed. Now that he was a bit closer, Hermione could see the traces of red that still circled his eyes. He obviously wasn't fully composed yet: it bled into his voice as he snapped, "I just saved your sorry skins, and you feel the need to make demands of me?" He gave a half-hearted sneer. "I guess I won't bother in the future, seeing how _appreciative_ you all are."

Harry frowned. "You said you'd explain, earlier. I mean, where were you after you opened the gate? What happened after we flew out of the manor? Why did you have Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder? Why on earth did you want to help us in the first place?"

"I..." he started, looking around.

"_Answer_, Malfoy." Ron said, crossing his arms.

He scowled. "I owe you no explanations."

Harry said, simply, "If we're going to trust one another, we'd better be able to talk to each other. We shouldn't have to keep things secret."

Malfoy chuckled. "Yeah. Right. No secrets. That's a laugh. If you want to be so open, tell me... how'd you get that sword?"

"_Crucio! I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword?__ Where?_" Hermione cringed as Bellatrix's voice echoed through her mind. She felt that aching again, spreading through her body.

"See! Not so quick to be all 'open' now, are we?" sneered Malfoy, misinterpreting Hermione's reaction. "Look, you keep your secrets, I'll keep mine."

"We found the sword. It was sitting in a pool in the forest... a frozen pool." He paused, glancing at Malfoy, who gazed back, eyes narrowed, face full of doubt. Harry continued, "A deer led me to it." He ignored a rueful laugh from Malfoy. "Except it wasn't like a deer at all, really. It was silver, beautiful. A silver doe."

Malfoy didn't seem convinced.

Harry sighed in exasperation. "You don't have to believe me, but that is the truth. Now, can you explain yourself a little?"

Malfoy scowled. "No." He glared at each of the three Gryffindors in turn, meeting their expectant gazes. Nobody spoke. Finally he sighed. "Just no. I-"

Ron went livid. "What could be wrong?" he shouted. "You hiding something? I bet you're still working for You-Know-Who, aren't you?"

Malfoy paled. "No! I-"

"Then explain yourself! It can't be that serious, and we can't really trust you otherwise!"

Malfoy's gaze flew from Ron's to Harry's to Hermione's, and back again. They stayed silent. He took a step backward. Finally he broke away from their glares, looking at the ground in defeat. "Fine," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Fine. Here it goes."


	3. What Happened

This will be the last update for a while... I'm going on holiday.

This chapter is pretty short, compared to what I've written before. However, a lot of thought and work went into this one... I hope it shows.

-o-o-o-

Disclaimer: I own many things. Some of them are copies of the Harry Potter books. Does that mean I own Harry Potter? No, silly!

Chapter 3: What Happened

"It was – was very different from what I'd thought. Working for the Dark Lord, I mean. Well, I guess I never _thought_ much about it at all, before. I thought about things I heard from my father, I thought about the power, the respect... but I never thought about actually working for him. About what I'd be doing.

"Well, you remember last year. I had my duty. It was so exciting at first... I'd just joined, just barely begun my service, and I'd already been given an important mission! I was trusted, I had respect! I thought I'd been... well, this will sound really stupid. I thought that _I_ was 'the chosen one'. Stupid, stupid. It wasn't until – well. Anyways, I wasn't supposed to finish. Or even get as close as I did. I learned that, later.

"So, after Dumbledore was... well, that summer,my father came back, and all the people from Azkaban. But things were different. The Dark Lord came to the manor and- well, things were different. We weren't... in good grace. I guess. _He_ was the lord of the manor, we were... tools. Or fools. I sometimes couldn't tell; there was a very thin line between the two.

"Before, I had never really thought about the title which I had been so eager to accept. Death Eater. You know how you sometimes hear a word, and never really think of what it means 'cause you thought that it didn't _really_ mean that, that it was just a – a... Well, like Hogwarts. Did you ever think that was a funny name for a school? I didn't, not until this summer. I... thought about a lot this summer. Anyways, just think. Death... Eater. What does _that_ mean? One who – who _savors_ death, who needs it, who survives on it? I had... never thought of that. It had always been just a title, _a title_, nothing more... a word for people I respected, people who I thought knew something that I didn't.

"That _title_ became very real. I saw – saw..."

…

…

"...s-sorry, I... d-don't..."

…

"I – I saw things. I d-did things. I... spent a lot of time in a room, a n-narrow little room with the Dark Lord and people that had made mistakes and made him angry people like me and I did things and I-"

…

…

"I- I went b-back to Hogwarts. I didn't have to. I did. I just needed to – to get out of the manor. But then I c-couldn't look at Professor Snape, and I couldn't talk to anyone who knew about... I couldn't talk. And I never got letters from home. Not once. Mother had always... Well, I didn't know what was happening, if something was wrong, if they were... The newspapers said nothing. I couldn't take it anymore, so I went home for Easter. I didn't plan on going back to school afterwards.

"It was very quiet. He – the Dark Lord – was gone. I didn't know where. I didn't care, as long as he was gone... it was just m-mother and father and me, and Aunt Bella, and that was all. Oh, and Wormtail. And... well. I guess it felt like it was just us. But it was so wonderful, they were both alright, and I had been so worried... it was so wonderful.

"Then you showed up.

"I just wanted you all to disappear. Of course I recognized you, by the way. Please. But it was all wrong, I was happy, and then you all were dragged in, and suddenly Fenrir Greyback and the others were there... and they were going to call the Dark Lord... I couldn't take that. I just couldn't.

"But I couldn't lie, either. I am... decent at occlumency. Good enough to... not tell the truth. But I'm not- not like Professor Snape or Aunt Bella, or anything! I can't... I did what I could. It didn't really matter, anyways. After Aunt Bella saw the sword, I mean, it didn't matter.

"After that... well, when I saw you, uh, Granger, where I had seen... I don't know! It just seemed like... like everything was all wrong, like it was when that p-professor was hanging there above the – the... oh, I _don't know_! I put my hands in my pockets and well, I guess I hadn't cleaned them for a while, 'cause there was some leftover darkness powder in them. (I don't wear these trousers often, see.) I – I didn't think, I just wanted it all to stop! I threw the powder and... oh, I can't even remember! But you were there, I guess, so... anyway.

"I just remember suddenly being there, standing before a window, hearing shattering glass, watching shards of it glinting as they fell. Watching you all fly out, escape. And I realized – I-I knew... my family... knew that the Dark Lord would – my father, my m-mo-"

…

"I thought if I stayed, I could... explain. Could fix it. Or, I didn't really think that, but I _needed_ that, I just needed it to all... go. Just go. So I left. I ran... I'm not some stupid hero! I just, I – I... Well, I met Aunt Bella, down on the floor below the attic. She was... mad. Yeah. She pulled her wand before I – before I could even open my mouth to explain... so I ran. Again. I heard her screaming behind me, so I panicked and disapparated, not really caring where I landed... I ended up outside.

"I saw you all, on the grounds, looking clueless. I... I don't know why, but I helped you again, as I'm sure you remember. Then I went back... I told myself I was going back to stay, but I knew that was a lie, that I'd n-never be back, not really... So I changed into something warmer, before flying out to join you.

"And here I am. Here I f-freakin' am. And if you need any more help, I guess I'll freakin' give it to you. What other choice do I have? I can't go back. I can't g- I'll help you, if you want me. It's all I can do, now. If I help you end this lousy war, help you put the Dark Lord back in – back in his place, then it'll all just go back to normal, won't it? I'll be able to go home again, won't I? Father and Mother, they have no great love for the Dark Lord. Not... not anymore. I don't either. So, yeah. I'll help. And you can trust me to be loyal and all that crap... I just want this all to be over. To just... end. I want... I want this over as much as you do, so count me in.

-o-o-o-

ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: If there is something that you'd like to see happen in the story, please drop a review. I know, pretty much, how it's all going to come together, but I'm open for suggestions all the same. Also, review if you:

a) like the way the story's going

b) dislike the way the story's going

c) notice inconsistancies and mistakes.

I want to make the best story possible, but I'm a bad judge of my own work. A little biased, see? So all help is appriciated!


	4. Back to the Manor

I've made a few small adjustments to the previous chapters. Nothing major. Just be aware, in case one or two things don't quite line up here.

-o-o-o-

Disclaimer: Ponder this: if I owned Harry Potter, would I be writing fanfiction?

Chapter 4: Back to the Manor

After Malfoy had finished, the three friends sat in silence for a while. Finally, Harry spoke, slowly. "You – you're a not a bad bloke, Malfoy. Much better than I ever gave you credit for."

Malfoy scoffed. "Everything I do is for me. Me and my own." He stared at his hands. Finally he sighed, getting to his feet. Brushing off his robes, he looked out into the trees. "We need to get further away. Let's go."

"Where are we?" Hermione asked, rising.

"Hmm?" Malfoy looked confused.

"We could be in France, for all I know."

"Oh... we're in south Wiltshire. Or maybe we made it to New Forest... I don't know how much ground we covered there." He drummed his fingers. "Probably still in Wiltshire." he concluded.

"But we need to get to Tinworth!" Ron cried.

"Can you apparate?" Harry asked Malfoy, standing up. Malfoy nodded slowly. "Perfect!" Harry grinned. "Why didn't I think of it before? We'll just go along side you!"

"Do I – do we all need to be in contact for that to work?" Malfoy asked carefully.

"Well, yeah." Harry said. "Is that a problem?"

"Uh, no, just... um..." He bit his lip. "It wouldn't work anyway." He took a breath before quickly spitting out, "I don't have an apparation license 'cause I was too young last year so they could track me and it wouldn't work." He concluded, giving his head a stiff, decisive shake.

"I don't have a license either." Harry argued. "I've apparated. No one's gotten me yet."

"Maybe you shouldn't." Malfoy sniffed.

"Here," Hermione sighed. "I've got an idea. Malfoy, you apparate to Bill and Fleur's, and find someone to come back and get us."

Malfoy smiled gratefully. "Sound's good." Hermione laughed to herself, knowing that his weak excuse from before had not been solved by her plan. She, however, was pretty sure that she knew why he had refused side-by-side apparation. If Harry or Ron noticed Malfoy's inconsistency, they said nothing.

Malfoy turned, ready to go, then paused. "Where should I go? Tinworth, you said?"

Ron nodded. "The place is called Shell Cottage. It's Bill and Fleur's place. It's by the cliffs on the outskirts of Tinworth, I think."

Malfoy nodded. "That should be enough." He thought for a moment, then frowned. "Wait. How do I tell them where you guys are? I mean, 'near some trees in southeastern Wiltshire' isn't exactly enough information."

Hermione bit her lip. She hadn't thought of that. "Perhaps if you have them apparate to Malfoy Manor, you could lead them out here, to us."

"I couldn't find this exact spot again."

There was a brief pause. "Alright, we'll have to go back to the manor, then." She frowned. "They don't know we left the grounds – how could they? – so we should be pretty safe, if we stay hidden."

"Um, Hermione?" Ron started. "Don't you think there's some other place we could use, some other landmark – "

"Afraid not." Malfoy said flatly, drumming his fingers. "When the manor was built, they made sure that it was... well away from any commotion. You know." He sighed. "Trees to one side, fields to another. No good landmarks."

Harry got to his feet, sighing. "Then I guess we're going back." He frowned thoughtfully, and added, "You know the way, right?"

Malfoy gave a soft snort. "Of course. I do live here, you know." He waited as Ron and Hermione rose.

Hermione glanced at Ron, who was scrutinizing Malfoy carefully. She could tell that he was skeptical, but had no better plans. Finally he asked, "Are you sure that you can't do a side-by-side apparation? That would be the safest, you know." He sounded flat, defeated; he knew the answer already. It was good that he did, for Malfoy did not respond, instead turning away and beginning to walk back to the mansion. The mansion that they had all fought so hard to escape.

They traveled in silence. Though they went rather slowly, Ron lagged behind a bit, as if unsure of the decision that they had made. Hermione couldn't blame him, she was nervous, too.

As they walked, she frequently found herself glancing backward at him. She didn't know why, but she kept getting the feeling that he would suddenly be gone, leaving her and Harry – and Malfoy, she supposed – to finish Dumbledore's mission without him. She knew that it was ridiculous, this feeling, but... it was there, stuck under her skin, planted firmly in her mind. He had left before. It didn't matter that the horcrux had manipulated his feelings, that he had tried to come back almost immediately, that he had found them again at last... He had left, and now she couldn't stop looking back at him, checking to see if he was there, or if he had run off again, disappearing from sight as she cried out and the rain fell...

She shook her head. He wasn't going to leave them, not again. She had to trust him. And yet, she couldn't stop herself from glancing back once more.

She was briefly tempted to fall back and walk with him, maybe even attempt conversation. She shook it off quickly. It was silly; she had nothing to say, and they had to be quiet. They couldn't attract any attention to themselves. She tried to block her friend from her mind.

Her footsteps fell upon the dry earth with a dull thud. She felt the sandy soil beneath her feet shift and crunch. She concentrated on this, on the rhythm and texture of her walking, allowing that to fill her mind, to drown out the images of the redhead behind her.

Crunch, crunch_. _ The sound filled her up.

Crunch, soil in a thin forest in Wiltshire_. _Crunch._ The loose gravel by the lake at Hogwarts. _Crunch._ Dry brush snapping beneath her feet in the Forbidden Forest. _Crunch. _Walking through a corridor, back from a Hogsmeade trip, shoe soles coated in drying mud and twigs. _Crunch, crunch_. While walking toward the common room, seeing a pale boy, eyes sunken, blankly sitting by himself. _Crunch._ Wondering why he hadn't been at Hogsmeade. Coming to a stop beside him._

Suddenly Ron was gone from her mind, as was the dry noise of her footfalls. She was lost in a memory from the year before...

And then she walked into Harry, who had stopped, causing him to stumble with a soft gasp. She looked around wildly, suddenly aware of her surroundings... no longer in the middle of nowhere, but in view of the manor. Malfoy looked back at them, eyes narrowed in annoyance. He lifted a finger to his lips, glanced around, and cautiously approached them. "Stay here. I saw some people leaving the grounds... keep quiet." He whispered, before vanishing.

After he left, the other three remained deathly silent. A soft wind blew from the manor, carrying the sound of voices. Lucius Malfoy. Fenrir Greyback. Bellatrix Lestrange. No words were clear, but the low mumble of their voices, particularly Bellatrix's, made Hermione tense up, made her heart beat a little bit faster. She tore her eyes off of the dark fence around the manor to glance back at her friends. Ron was biting his lip uneasily, shifting silently from foot to foot. Harry's expression was unreadable, but Hermione got the impression that he wasn't thinking about Shell Cottage. He was somewhere else again.

Then, with a crack, Malfoy was beside them again. Hermione looked behind him and saw, close to the manor fence, Dobby. The four of them took off to meet him.

"Dobby has come to get Harry Potter!" The elf squeaked softly, looking apprehensively at the walls behind him.

"Shh!" Malfoy cautioned. Dobby flinched, still nervous around the son of his former master. After a brief pause, he reached his arms out to Harry and Hermione, and Ron grabbed on to Hermione's arm.

Suddenly a voice rang out from the other side of the fence. "Potter isn't the priority here, Bellatrix! My _son_ is out there! Do you know what the Dark Lord will-" There was an edge to Lucius's voice that Hermione hadn't heard before.

"No, I don't think he's with them. I found him in the manor, after Potter and the others had already disappeared!"

"He's still inside, then?"

In the second that Dobby began to turn, Malfoy looked up and said, "I'll be there in a little while." And then the manor was gone again, replaced by the black and suffocating grip of apparation, which was replaced again by salty, damp air and the sound of the ocean rolling. She tried to take a step, stumbling slightly on the rocky ground.

"Ron! Harry! Hermione!" called a good-natured, friendly voice from behind her. She turned to see Bill Weasley rushing out to meet them, followed by Dean and Luna. He frowned. "Where's that Malfoy bloke?" He asked.

"He said he'd be here in a minute." Harry explained. "Just curious – why were you so quick to trust him?"

"We were there before, Harry." Dean said. Luna nodded, eyes wide.

Hermione felt so odd... the memory of Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor still weighed heavily on her mind. She was suddenly a bit weak, a bit shaky. An odd mixture of relief and apprehension swam through her.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ron asked, forehead creased in concern. He stepped back, examining her.

She laughed weakly. "I'm fine – fine."

"I think you need rest." Bill said. "Here, let's all go inside. Fleur's got the place all ready – "

"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to wait out here for a moment." Hermione said. The wind was pleasant, the sound of the sea hypnotizing... she didn't want to go into a crowded house. "Just until Malfoy shows up." She cringed slightly at her weak excuse.

"Other people can wait for Malfoy." Bill smiled. "You need to rest, so you're coming inside with us."

"I think that it's fine for her to wait a bit," Harry looked up. "The cool air is very refreshing, you know, and I'll wait with her." Bill looked unsure, but Harry grabbed Hermione by the wrist and had her sit down on a large stone.

"Alright... see you two inside shortly, then." With that, the others left. Ron glanced at his two friends curiously, but followed his brother to the cottage.

After everyone had gone, Hermione turned to Harry. "Thank you... but I did want to be alone for a while."

Harry smiled wryly. "I did, too." With that, he got up, and walked away, wandering toward the cliffs. Hermione smiled, before settling on her rock and losing herself in thought.

Strangely, her mind was quick to pick up on the memory hat she had been recounting while walking through Wiltshire.

_ She remembered walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, toward the common room. Her arms were weighed down... what had she been carrying? Parchment. Five new rolls of parchment, and a couple of nice new quills. Her shoes were covered with mud from the road, and they scraped against the rough stone floors of the castle._

_ She had seen the boy, pale and drawn, slumped on a bench in the hallway. She immediately recognized him, of course, his silvery hair was unmistakable, but she was surprised by a sudden urge to stop. She knew how poorly she thought of the guy, but it was hard to keep anger fueled while looking at one so... down. So dejected._

_ However, as soon as she had paused beside him, he looked up with a nasty scowl twisted onto his face. It was suddenly easy to remember just what it was about him that infuriated her so._

_ "What do you want, mudblood?" he spat._

_ "Nothing. I just... nothing. I thought you were someone else." She looked down, heat creeping into her cheeks. What had she expected? He was Malfoy, after all._

_ He laughed harshly. "Yeah. I get that a lot. I just look like so many other people, don't I?" He snorted. "Just get out of here, or – "_

_ "Are you alright?" She blurted, not really thinking about her words. As soon as they were out, she regretted them, wishing to call them back._

_ "Huh?" he questioned, deflating a little bit._

_ "Are – are you alright?" she repeated lamely. He looked up, not... angry, exactly. More nervous. But not quite that, either... it was odd. He picked at his left sleeve absently._

"Hey, Granger."

_He didn't say anything._

"Uh... Granger?"

_She turned, thoroughly embarrassed, to walk away._

"Are you alright?"

The words brought her out of the memory harshly. "Wha-? Oh. I'm fine."

Malfoy, who must have appeared while she was reminiscing, frowned slightly. "You look ill. A bit pale. You should – you should go inside." He turned his gaze away from her, glancing out to the sea. She looked up at him... he looked pale himself. Pale, tired, and worried. Again, the scene in the corridor came to mind.

She stood up from her rock, a bit weak. It probably was a good idea to go inside, she figured as she swayed slightly. Malfoy was still looking away.

Before she left, she turned to face him, and asked quietly, "You asked me not to touch you... is it the same for Harry an Ron, too?" He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised, and nodded slowly. "Is it – is it because of that?" She asked, pointing to his left arm.

He looked surprised, and went, if possible, just a little bit paler. Or perhaps she imagined it, for the next moment he looked fine. He nodded wordlessly, running a hand through his hair, and walked toward the cottage.

When he was halfway there, he called over his shoulder, "I think it's time you went inside."

She nodded slowly, and followed him with unsteady steps. She wasn't quite sure why she had asked what she had... just something about the memory had stuck in her mind. And his response... she was just so confused. But confusion was something that she had been forced to grow accustomed to, lately. She entered the cottage through the propped-open door.

-o-o-o-

ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: I would like to thank all my reviewers, particularly eryv, who has given me a bit of advise to improve my writing. (Much appreciated.) I do want to make a story that people will enjoy... so, if you see something you don't like, speak up! Also, if you have something nice to say, I would _love_ to hear it. Really.


	5. Eavesdropping

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series? Still not mine! (Yeah, I'm bummed, too.)

Chapter 5: Eavesdropping

Everyone was sitting in the cottage living room, listening raptly as Bill gave news about friends and family. They didn't even notice Hermione come in. Didn't notice her, that is, until she stumbled over the threshold and caught herself on the wall, knocking a few framed pictures to the ground. Then she had everyone's attention. Ron was the first up. He ran over to her and gently pulled her to her feet, face flushing as she smiled gratefully. Others followed, to look concerned, rub her shoulder comfortingly, or smile sympathetically. Soon only Malfoy remained in the other room, standing in the corner, still gazing at her blankly.

"I knew it was a bad idea to let her wait out there, she needs to lie down. Now."

"Hermione?"

"'Ow about we take 'er to ze small bedroom? Ze one zat Luna eez using? Zey wouln't mind sharing, I theenk."

"Of course not! That sounds great!"

"She needs something to eat, too... goodness, she looks starved!''

Everyone kept talking worriedly, but she stopped trying to decipher the words. She felt terribly light headed, and it was difficult to focus on anything. She just listened to the jumble of voices, all warm, all loving, and sighed. She felt safe. After months and months of constant worry and trouble, she now felt safe.

Then, suddenly, she felt not warm, but dizzy and nauseous.

One concerned voice rang above the others, saying, "Hush! She needs rest. I'll take her."

She followed Bill as he led her to a room, her head now filled with buzzing. The night that she had just survived began to push in on her, pressure her, make her vision start to blur... She stumbled toward the bed, collapsing onto it, world going dark.

She slept heavily, the sort of sleep that covers you, pins you down, refuses to allow escape. It rolled over her like leaden mist, swirling with dreams that were never quite clear. If she tried to focus on one, it would disappear, leaving her holding nothing.

When she awoke after what seemed to be an age, the sleep still clung to her. She was weighed down with it. She couldn't rise from the bed, could barely crack her eyes open to see where she was. It took her a while to remember. She had no memory of the room where she now lay; she hadn't been in the condition to notice much of anything the night before. It was small, and simply furnished, but warm, with the drawn red curtains glowing slightly with early morning light. It couldn't be much past dawn.

Bill had tucked her in before leaving, and now, under the heavy quilt, she was far too warm. Still, she couldn't make herself move. Not yet.

She tried to remember her dreams. She knew that there was something... some shadows, vague shapes that she could almost recognize... But what was a dream, anyway? Images conjured by an unconscious mind. Meaningless.

Almost laughing at herself for her momentary belief in the importance of 'dreams', she started to fight her way out of bed. She still felt ridiculously sluggish, but she wanted to see her friends. Wanted to hear people talking again. She kicked at the sheets, pushing them to the foot of the bed. With a grunt, she shifted herself into a sitting position and slid off of the mattress onto the hardwood floor.

Groggily, she dragged herself toward the door. However, she tripped over something before she could make it.

"Agh!... Oh, Hermione!" Luna gave a fantastic yawn, sitting up in her make-shift bed on the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be in your way." She spoke happily, if a bit sleepily.

"Oh, Luna! I'm sorry!" Hermione gasped, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't see you – oh! Was that your bed? I'm sorry, I didn't know that I was making you sleep on the floor, I – "

Luna smiled. "Oh, it wasn't. I didn't have a bed. I arrived just a couple hours before you, remember? Besides, it seemed like you needed it." She spoke earnestly as she got to her feet. "Bill said that the wrackspurts were really getting to you," she added matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" Hermione asked.

"Well, he didn't _say_ so, exactly, but it was obvious. Was your mind going all fuzzy?" Hermione nodded, smiling slightly. "I thought so. Definitely wrackspurts. You must have had a ton of them! I don't think I've ever seen them make someone black out before." She tapped her lip thoughtfully.

"I'm going to go find Harry and Ron." Hermione said, stepping toward the door.

"Oh, wait! Fleur told me to make you eat this before you got up." She grabbed a bowl from the dresser.

Hermione took it. It was some sort of creamy soup, still steaming. "This looks delicious... How is it still warm? Hasn't it been..." She paused, before laughing, "I love magic." She sat down on the bed and began to eat.

"It hasn't been too long, actually. You only slept for a few hours. I think." Luna said, sitting next to her.

After a few spoonfuls, Hermione asked, "Is everyone okay?"

"Mr. Olivander and the goblin... Griphook, was it? Well, they're in bed. Dean and I are both fine, though, and Harry and Ron are okay, too. Is that it? Oh wait, Malfoy. I haven't seen him in a while, but he seemed fine. I think that's all."

"That's good." Hermione sighed, taking another bite of soup. "That's amazing."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Luna responded absently, looking around the room.

"Do you think we could all get wands somehow?" Hermione was suddenly struck with the thought that her wand – the one that she had used since she was eleven – was gone. Forever, probably. She sighed miserably, finally understanding why Harry had been so upset before, when his own wand had broken.

"I don't know. But Mr. Olivander is here, isn't he?"

"I suppose so..." Hermione answered, unsure. Yes, he was there, but was he in any condition to work? Did they have the materials to make wands, even?

But no one, surely, would leave Harry Potter without a wand.

She finished her soup in silence. "I'll take my dishes out to the kitchen." She said, standing up and walking out into the hall.

As she walked toward the front of the house, she heard Ron talking quietly nearby. At once a terrible desire for her friends came over her. She just wanted to be with them and to talk about a Potions essay, or complain about Professor Binns, or... anything, really, that wasn't the Horcruxes. Or the stupid, impossible Hallows.

She followed his voice, setting her soup bowl on a table. "Ron?" she called softly, stepping into the sitting room.

"Hermione!" He stood up from where he had been sitting on the couch next to his brother and ran to her, catching her in a great hug. After a moment he stepped back, rather red in the face. "Um, shouldn't you be resting? What are you doing up?"

"I'm fine. I woke up, and... well, wanted to talk."

"Ron?" Bill stood up. "I'm off. Oh, and did you eat that soup, Hermione?"

"Yes. It was delicious, thank you."

Bill smiled. "Fleur will be happy to hear that." He gave a soft laugh. After giving Hermione a last critical look, and seeming to regard her healthy enough, he was gone.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.

"Yes. I'm fine, really." She smiled. "Honestly, I'm getting tired of hearing that question over and over... I'm fine."

He didn't look appeased. "You know, I'd blame myself if-"

"Why? That's stupid. You did everything you could."

His ears turned a deep shade of red. He seemed about to respond when they both heard a familiar voice nearby. "I'm sorry, but it can't wait. I need to talk to them now. Privately – and separately. It's urgent."

"Harry, what on earth is going on?" Bill responded to their friend sharply. "First two students, a house elf, a half-conscious goblin, and a man who's been missing for over a year turn up, then a few hours later, you guys appear with a Death Eater! Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, and Ron's just refused to tell me anything – "

Hermione looked at Ron, who glanced back at her, biting his lip.

"We can't tell you what we're doing. You're in the order, Bill, you know that Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else."

There was a pause. Hermione's mind raced. Who did he need to talk to, she wondered? Griphook, maybe, about the sword, but who else? Her, maybe, and Ron?

Finally Bill gave in. "All right. Who do you want to talk to first?"

"...Griphook." His answer was slow. "Griphook first."

"Up here, then." They heard Bill begin to climb the staircase. Hermione peeked out, watching.

Harry began to follow, then looked back and saw Hermione and Ron. "I need you two as well!" he called to them. Hermione flushed, embarrassed at having been caught listening, but followed. Ron came behind her.

"How are you?" Harry asked her. "I – I'm so sorry – "

"I'm fine, really. Please, don't apologize for what wasn't your fault." She smiled weakly, and Ron gave her a soft squeeze with one arm. She felt the odd urge to both lean into him and move away at the same time. She was grateful when he lowered his arm himself.

"What are we doing now, Harry?" he asked.

"You'll see. Come on." He said. Hermione hesitated slightly before following.

Still exhausted, climbing the steep stairs left her breathless. She tried not to pant as she was ushered into the bedroom. She moved quickly to a chair, feeling the need to sit down. Ron sat on the arm, to her slight annoyance.

Bill came in shortly, carrying the goblin. He placed him on the bed, then left, closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed," said Harry. "How are your legs?"

"Painful," the goblin replied, "But mending."

Hermione missed the next part of the conversation, suddenly aware of... something. She wasn't sure what, but she had heard something in the room. She looked around, checking all shady corners, but no one seemed to be there...

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter." She brought her attention back to the goblin, figuring that she was only being paranoid.

"In what way?" She heard Harry ask. But there was that sound again...

"You dug the grave."

"So?"

There was a pause. Hermione listened carefully, but the sound was gone once more.

Finally Harry started, "Griphook I need some help, and you can give it to me. I need to break into a Gringotts vault."

Yes. Definitely, this time. "Harry, stop!" she cried. "There's someone else in here!"

Ron stood up, reaching to pull out his wand before remembering that it was gone. Harry's eyes shot around the room while he snarled, "Where? Where, Hermione?"

"I don't – " And then she saw him, hidden between the wall and the open closet door. "Malfoy!" She gasped. Harry followed her gaze, and stepped toward the closet.

"Stop, Potter." Malfoy calmly ordered, slipping out from behind the door into full view, pulling out his wand.

"Malfoy, you two-faced, scummy – !" Ron began to shout, but Malfoy cut him off.

"Shut up! I'm not turning on anyone, here. The most I'm guilty of is eavesdropping." He lowered his wand. "I just don't want Potter or you touching me. That would be... bad."

"Huh?" Ron growled. "Why's that?"

"I'll explain later. Just calm down, step away." Harry backed off slightly, still glaring murderously. "Yes... good, sit down, all of you." He waited while they did, then put his wand away. Ron sprang to his feet again, but Hermione pulled him back down.

Malfoy, seeing them all mostly settled, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright then. Like I said, I don't mean any harm... I just want to know what's happening. I figured that I'd have to find out for myself, though, 'cause I got the feeling that no one was going tell me."

"I wonder why?" spat Ron.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but, you know? I'm not." He smirked. "So... go on."

"What?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I said, 'go on'. Continue. Explain. Why Gringotts? What's there? How, precisely, do you plan to get in? I'm curious." He shrugged.

"You aren't hearing anything else."

"Get out of here, Malfoy." Ron snarled.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Get out, you say? That sounds like an order." He drew himself up slightly. "What position are you in, Potter, Weasley, to order me around? Remember: I still have my wand." He pulled it out for emphasis.

"Malfoy..." Hermione pleaded, "please... just – " He glared darkly at her.

"We'll drag you out if we have to." Harry said sharply.

"Oh, that's not advisable." Malfoy said mildly. "Shouldn't touch me."

"You've said that, but you won't say why!"

"I don't want to explain now. Let's not keep Griphook in here too long, eh? It should suffice to say that I believe the Dark Lord has done some fancy spell work on me." He still smiled, but Hermione thought she saw him wince.

"Malfoy." She said nervously. "Please, just leave. You can't expect us to just – just trust you suddenly, with things that we can't tell anyone about!"

Then, unexpectedly, Malfoy seemed to lose his composure. "But I can help! Don't you get it? I want to help end this, this stupid war!" He slumped, lowering his wand. The ghost of his smirk remained on his face, but it was empty. He fingered his hair nervously. "I can help." he repeated weakly.

Harry walked over to the bedroom door, opened it, and gestured grandly. "Out. Now."

"I-" he croaked, stepping backwards. He met the glares of all in the room, human and goblin. After a moment, he looked down scowling, and stormed out of the room.

Harry slammed the door after him. "Think we're safe?"

Ron scoffed. "Of course not."

"I mean, you think he's going to go tell Vol-"

"Harry!" gasped Hermione, "The taboo!"

"Um, tell You-Know-Who about our plan to break into Gringotts?"

"It would not matter if he did." Griphook spoke for the first time since Malfoy had been discovered. "You cannot break into a Gringotts vault. It is impossible."

"No it isn't, it's been done." Ron corrected.

"Yeah, the same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago." Harry said.

"The vault in question was empty at the time. Its protection was minimal." The goblin snapped, narrowing his black eyes.

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful," said Harry. "It belongs to the Lestranges."

The_ Lestranges_? Hermione looked at Ron, eyes wide. What was Harry after?

"You have no chance. No chance at all. _If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours_ – "

"_Thief, you have been warned, beware_ – yeah, I know, I remember." Harry said impatiently. "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"

The goblin thought briefly. Finally he sighed. "If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain, it would be you Harry Potter. However, your reasons for wishing to break into a vault are inconsequential." He said. "It cannot be done, by you, me, or the Dark Lord, no matter what motives any of us have."

"We have no hope of getting in without you."

"I have told you. already. I cannot help."

"But – " Ron started, but Hermione nudged him in the ribs.

"Thank you for your time, Griphook." She said softly, before getting up and walking toward the door. Ron and Harry both called after her, but she didn't listen. She left.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, running out after her, followed by Ron. "We need to get back in there! We can't just give up! We need him to help us, we haven't got a chance without him!"

"He said that even he can't help us. Do you think he was lying?" She crossed her arms.

"No – but maybe he wasn't telling the truth." Ron said.

"Even if he could, I'm not sure he would help us." Hermione sighed. "Do you know what sort of history wizards have with goblins? And we'd be asking him to betray his own for us!"

Harry faced her, exasperated. "That's why we need to make him see how important it is! It's vital! It's for-"

"For the greater good?" Hermine interrupted, scowling. The words that Dumbledore had once penned against muggles hung in the air darkly, leaving all silent for a moment.

Harry didn't respond to her. Finally, she asked, "You think that there's a Horcrux in there, don't you?"

"Yeah." he muttered. "Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there. She was beside herself. I think there was something else in there, something that she was petrified that we had stolen, petrified that You-Know-Who would find out about."

Ron looked confused. "But I thought we were looking for places that You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?"

Hermione noticed Harry fingering his scar as he said, "He gave Lucius Malfoy the diary. It would make sense for him to give a Horcrux to Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants. He trusted them."

Harry let the words mull. It did make sense, Hermione realized. "So there's a Horcrux in Gringotts. And we can't get it." she whispered.

"That's why we have to get Griphook to help us."

He and Ron turned to reenter the bedroom. "Wait!" Hermione called. "He said no. What do you think we can do to get him to change his mind? We can't afford to make him mad! What if he tells someone about our plans?"

"He won't."

"No, not now," she said, "Because he thinks we've given up. Besides, he likes Harry. But if we went back in, pressured him, made him mad – "

"Well, it wouldn't really matter if he did turn us in." Ron said sourly. "Malfoy knows. Our plans are as good as leaked."

Hermione looked up at Harry suddenly. "Malfoy – He said that he could help! Didn't he? He said he could help us get into Gringotts!"

"He couldn't _really_ mean that." Harry said, frowning. "His chances are no better than ours."

"What harm could it do to ask him about it?" Hermione asked desperately. "He knows we want to break in already. We don't need to tell him anything else, we could just see if he has a way to get in!"

"I... don't know about this, Hermione." Ron said, biting his lip. "It's Malfoy..."

Harry sighed. "We don't have much of a choice."

"Let's just ask him." Hermione pushed. "We have nothing to lose, as long as we don't tell him anything else."

Hermione gazed up at her two friends, who were frowning uncertainly. "Well..." Harry said finally, "Let's find the bloke."

-o-o-o-

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking:** 1000 hits! Hooray! (I know that it's not very impressive at all, but it made my day.) Thank you all! In celebration, I took an afternoon and drew a picture for the story. You can find it here, just remove the spaces:

h t t p : / / b r o w s e . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / ? o r d e r = 1 1 & q = d r a c o % 2 0 h e r m i o n e # / d 2 s s 8 3 b

Keep in mind that I'm no real artist, which is why perspective has been thrown to the wind and Malfoy looks black-and-white. (I mean, pale with white-blond hair and grey clothes... not much color there.)

Thanks to all my reviewers! The reviews from last chapter made me feel so warm and fuzzy!


	6. Define Impossible

Disclaimer: Well, my sister and I broke a wishbone today. I wished for full rights to Harry Potter. Guess what? I didn't win.

Chapter 6: Define Impossible

It didn't take to long to locate Malfoy. He was standing at the base of the staircase, staring at the floor, face dark. He looked up at them as they walked down the stairs. "Done scheming for the day?" he sneered. When none of the three friends responded immediately, he rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Hey, uh, Malfoy," Harry said, reaching out to grab his shoulder. Malfoy stepped away sharply, evading his touch, turning to face them all and glare.

"Yeah, what?"

"Well, back in there, you said that you could help us," he started, "Were you telling the truth? Can you?"

"What, the goblin won't help?"

"Well, um, no."

Malfoy snorted, turning away again. "Glad to know I'm a last resort, then. How do I rank with you, anyway? After the foul little goblin, obviously. What else do you trust more than me? How about some idiotic giant?" He gave a dry laugh. "Or a vampire? A house elf? A werewolf?"

"Yeah." Harry said, glaring. "I know a werewolf who I would – "

"Oh, right. Our good halfbreed professor." He sneered. "It's good to know where I stand. With the flobberworms and other filth." He scowled and began to walk away.

"Malfoy, we're asking for your help!" Hermione said, narrowing her eyes. She was trying very hard to ignore his bigoted words, which still bounced around in her mind. Between his words, the stress she had been under, and the fitful sleep that she had not yet fully shaken off, she was getting irrate. She tried desperately to keep herself calm, if only in appearence. However, some of the fire behind her voice was doubtlessly fueled by her frustration. "Just listen, for heaven's sake! We need to know if you can get us into Gringotts!"

"I said I could help, didn't I?" Malfoy crossed his arms, back to them. "And I don't lie every other sentence. Like some," he paused briefly before spitting, "goblin."

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy!" Hermione cried, aggravated. "We trusted a goblin. They are intelligent beings with as much honor as any human! More than some!"

"Oh? Then why won't he help you? Don't have the gold to pay him?" Hermione tried to answer, but hesitated when he turned to face them, his face positively livid. "I offered you help." he continued bitingly. "Freely. But you didn't want it then, did you? Didn't need it? After all, I'm just some lousy git that – that gave up every– " He had to stop, furious. Hermione backed up instinctively.

Finally he found words again. "J-just some git that turned on his own family to save your sorry, ungrateful skins." He took a step closer to the three. "What does that really mean, anyway?" he hissed.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry – We didn't mean to seem..." Ron said defensively. "We only – "

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione spat. "Malfoy, we thank you for what you did. We understand your sacrifice. But that doesn't mean you get to know everything! Everyone has given up something! It's war! Get over yourself, you're no different from anyone else!"

"But I – I actually have something to offer! But it's not good enough, huh? It's better to beg help from a scheming goblin than except help that I offer?"

"Don't you think a _goblin_ would know something about breaking into _Gringotts_? More than a pampered rich boy who thinks the world revolves around him?"

"Oh, that's original! Scathing! Rich boy, she said! Wouldn't a _rich boy_ be able to get into a _bank_ pretty easily? More easily than a goblin in freakin' _exile_?"

"Will you two please – " Harry tried to intervene.

"The trick isn't getting _into _the bank, it's getting into the Lestranges vault and then _out_ of the bank!

"Hey! Shut up!" Harry said. "Do you want everyone in the house knowing our plans?" Hermione quieted immediately, face going red. Malfoy glared darkly, but fell silent as well.

"Malfoy, we need help." Harry said, evenly, but a little impatiently. "I still believe that Griphook would know more about the inner workings of Gringotts, but if you think that you could get us in and out... we need the help."

Malfoy sniffed and began bitterly, "Oh, now that you _need_ my help, I suppose I'll be simply _delighted _to – "

"We don't have time for this, Malfoy, get over it now." He rubbed at his scar.

A pause followed. Hermione, still furious, watched Malfoy carefully. He looked outraged, glaring daggers at the three of them. Finally, after a very uncomfortable silence, he took a deep breath and muttered horsely, "Ask me later." Then, glaring at the floor, he turned around and walked out of the cottage, toward the ocean.

The three friends looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Finally Hermione broke the silence, to spit out, "The prat. The idiotic prat."

"You're the one who wanted to talk to him, Hermione." Ron reminded her. After a pause, he shook his head, saying, "Man, what got to him, anyway? I mean, we didn't really do anything that insulting. He just blew up! What's with that?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a minute. "You know," he said slowly, "I can sort of see..." He trailed off. "I don't think he likes being turned down when he offers something."

"Well, yeah," Ron said.

"Remember first year? On the train?"

Ron looked confused. "Yeah... he insulted my family and we met Crabbe and Goyle, who looked like apes at age eleven."

"He offered me friendship, which I refused..." Harry mused.

Hermione spoke again, muttering, "Which led to an entire school career of hatred and anger. We don't have time for this!"

"But you said we shouldn't go talk to Griphook again, so what do we do?" Ron asked.

Harry said levelly, "It's very early. He said to talk to him later, so we will. For now... I think that we're all tired. Go back to sleep, okay?"

Shortly afterwards, Hermione found herself heading back towards the small room where she had left Luna. She crawled back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin, and tried to sleep. She closed her eyes and waited, but her blood was still running too hot from her argument with Malfoy. Just the thought of him made her scowl. And his impossibly narrow views on the world, his refusal to trust anything that wasn't a wizard. _How dare he condemn goblins and house elves and werewolves and – and whatever else he said, just because they're not exactly like him! _ She thought, furiously, clenching her fists. _And it's ridiculous, him getting so angry over so little!_ She was about to add something, when a sobering question drifted through her mind. _Is my anger any more justified?_

She turned over on the bed, trying (though not really succeeding) to let some of the resentment go. It meant that when she finally did drift into a half-sleep, her thoughts were still on Malfoy.

_In the Hogwarts corridor once more, weighted down with parchment and quills. "Are you alright?" She blurted to Malfoy, again seated on a bench._

_ "Huh?"_

_ "Are – are you alright?" she repeated lamely. He looked up, not... angry, exactly. More nervous. But not quite that, either... it was odd. He picked at his left sleeve absently. He didn't say anything._

_ She turned to walk away, and almost jumped when he said, quietly, "Do I seem otherwise?" She spun sharply to look at him. He was staring at the floor, expression blank. Dull. In the poorly lit hallway, he seemed particularly pale, haggard._

_ "N-no..." She said._

_ He snorted but said nothing. She edged a little closer to him, examining his face. It was fascinating, in a very grim way. She had seen it often enough before, throughout her years at school. However, it had always been brimming with arrogance and contempt. Never had she seen it like this, completely blank and sunken, eyes glazed slightly._

_ He looked up sharply, causing her to flinch. "Anything else?" he sneered weakly._

_ "Nothing... just..." She swallowed. "__**Are**__ you alright?"_

_ His sneer twisted into a very dry smile. "I'm as 'alright' as anything, I suppose... but is anything alright anymore, really?" Then unexpectedly, he hung his head. Hermione stepped back, shocked... his shoulders shook, slightly._

_ She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than she could remember ever feeling before. She turned sharply, with every intention to walk away. However, glancing back, she couldn't stop herself from reaching back and brushing his hand with hers._

_ He flinched horribly at her touch. She could feel his eyes on her. She couldn't bring herself to meet them. She was afraid of what she knew she would find: confusion, surprise, disgust. Instead, she rushed away, leaving him sitting by himself. Alone in the dim stone hall._

She awoke with the images still at the front of her mind, the feel of his hand still on hers. Dry. Cool and dry.

This memory had replayed in her mind often since Dumbledore's death, more often now than ever before. She couldn't see why. Though the event was strange, nothing important had happened. Why had she touched him, though? The question had often troubled her. It was a natural enough gesture, sure, from a friend to a friend... but Malfoy had never been a friend to her. The idea was laughable. _Wait,_ she realized, _I was upset with him... angry, even..._ The whole morning seemed fuzzy to her. The dream, the memory, she supposed, was much more clear and made much more sense...

She pulled herself out of bed and left the room, feeing rested and calm. All anger toward Malfoy had dissipated in her sleep.

When she walked into the front of the cottage, Bill called out to her. "G'morning, Hermione! Sit down for breakfast."

"I'm really not very hungry..." She said, "Are Harry and Ron up yet?"

"Harry is, he's eating. I haven't seen Ron."

She walked to the table, where both Harry and Luna sat, eating oatmeal. She took a seat next to Harry. "Is Ron still asleep?" she asked.

Harry swallowed. "He was when I left." He shrugged. "We don't really need to rush. Let's give the Malfoy plenty of time to calm down, right?" He smiled. "You seem better. The sleep did you good?"

She smiled back. "It was... refreshing, I guess. Was I really bad?"

"You were pretty upset."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You had every right to be."

"Yeah... but it was still pretty hypocritical of me." Harry shrugged, and turned back to his oatmeal. Hermione sighed, and leaned back in her chair, thinking.

After a while, Ron stumbled his way into the room, eyes blurry with sleep. He sat down and dished himself a heaping bowl of oatmeal. "Should we go talk to Malfoy now?" Hermione asked, drumming her fingers on the table.

"We can wait." Harry said. Hermione sighed. _At least Ron eats quickly_, she thought.

"Feeling better, Hermione?" Ron asked between bites.

"Yeah. I'm good." She said, reddening a little. Had she been that irritable?

Luna had left, so the three of them sat in the room, not speaking. Ron ate heartily, Harry was looking distractedly around the room. His forehead was creased with worry. Hermione watched him as he fidgeted, sometimes drumming the table, sometimes fingering his scar.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" She asked quietly. Ron looked up, concerned as well.

"I'll tell you guys later..." he said.

"Why not now?" Ron asked. "We're all here, we're alone."

Harry frowned. "I suppose... well, I talked to Olivander this morning, after you two had gone back to sleep."

"Is he going to be making us new wands?" Ron asked.

"I don't know... he didn't really say, but he looks pretty ill. I actually asked him about the Elder Wand. He says it's real, and he told You-Know-Who about it. And now," he closed his eyes. "Now You-Know-Who has it. I saw him take it..." he trailed off.

"You-Know-Who has the Elder Wand?" Ron gawked. "The unbeatable wand..." He moaned, resting his head in his hands.

"Where was it?" Hermione whispered.

"Well, Gregorovitch had it, long ago. But then Grindelwald stole it... how he found out who had it, I don't know... but he had it when he rose to power. And then Dumbledore defeated him.

"Dumbledore had it?" Ron said, dumbfounded.

"Yes. And now You-Know-Who does. I saw him split Dumbledore's grave open and take the wand for himself."

The three of them fell silent, taking in this information.

Soon, however, the silence was broken. "There you all are. Thought you'd forgotten. I had to find you myself." They all looked up, to see Malfoy standing in the doorway, composure regained, smirk on his lips. "So... who wants a way into Gringotts?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione gasped needlessly. He shot her a quick, cold glare, before turning back to Harry.

"You seem... in a good mood." Harry said suspiciously. It was true. However, as Malfoy came closer, it became rather painfully evident that his attitude was forced. His face, which had at first seemed good natured, had an unpleasant twist to it, and his gaze housed a fragment of resentment.

He walked around the room casually. "I've given it a bit of thought, and I think I can get you right up to the vault door." He looked very pleased with himself.

"But not _inside_ the vault?" Ron said, doubtful.

He shrugged. "Ah, that's just in the details." He crossed his arms. "Any idea of how I plan to do it?"

"Um, no. That's why we're asking for _help_, Malfoy." Ron said with a scowl.

"Oh, come on. Guesses?" He smirked, evidently loving being in control of the situation.

"Griphook said that it was impossible." Harry said slowly. "We have no idea."

"Impossible to break in and fight your way that deep into the bank? Yes, probably. But it is not impossible for me to stroll in and look at the Malfoys' vault. And it just so happens that the Lestranges' vault is right next to the Malfoys' vault." He brushed at his robes.

"Wait... that seems a bit convenient." Hermione said, frowning.

"Yes, of course it's convenient! That's why I think it'll work!" He gave her a hard look. She, at least, had not yet been forgiven. She sighed inwardly.

Ron spoke up. "No... it's too convenient, I think. I mean, your family's vault just happens to be _right next _to the Lestranges'?" he shook his head. "That... that is too much to believe."

Malfoy sighed. "Not really... I could take needless time and explain why that is, or you could just trust me..." His cockiness faltered a bit as he met the glares of all three of them. He suddenly seemed to remember his shaky standing. "Alright, then." he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers. "Let's see... the Lestranges and the Malfoys, or rather, the _Estrages _and the _Malfaits_ left France in the mid sixteenth century. They changed the names after arriving in Britain."

"Estranges? Malfaits?" Hermione almost laughed. "Those mean – "

"Yeah, I know." he glared at Hermione. "'Estrange' is French for 'weird', and 'mal fait' means 'badly made'. We were well loved by the people of the country, as you see. In those time, the muggles in France were rather... paranoid about magic. There were a lot of witch trials and all that. Naturally, they rarely ever tried someone who was _actually_ magical, and even more rarely were able to kill them... but it got obnoxious, I guess. So the two families came to England."

"Together?"

"Well, they became friendly on the trip over. I think there might have been a marriage, but I don't really know." He shrugged. "Anyways, they did all of their papers at the same time, and that includes setting up vaults at Gringotts."

"Wait! That was in the sixteenth century? How old is that bank?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head. "Don't know. Old. The point is, the vaults are still together."

"Hmm." Harry looked thoughtful. "This might work... how would we," he gestured to himself and his two friends, "get in, though?"

"I'll explain... later. Right now I want to know... are you in? Is this actually going to happen?"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who both shrugged. Then, after a puase, he smiled grimly. "Here goes nothing," he said, reaching out his hand to Malfoy.

"Sorry, I don't shake hands." Malfoy said dryly. Harry remembered Malfoy's refusal to make contact and pulled his hand back sharply.

"Can't you tell us why?" Hermione asked. "I think we've put up with this 'mysterious' thing long enough." Ron and Harry both looked to Malfoy expectantly.

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Is it really the time? We've got a bank robbery to plan."

Harry crossed his arms. "We have plenty of time for that. Later, like you said."

"Yes. I was planning on getting rest now."

"Were you? I doubt it. Why do you keep putting things like this off? What's wrong with telling us?"

"Yeah." Ron agreed. "You're hiding things, Malfoy, and it's not exactly comforting."

In a second, Malfoy's expression went from strained brightness to dark with irritation, with perhaps a flash of uncertainty between the two. "Fine." He snapped. He then spoke rapidly, almost venomously. "Remember back at the manor? When I decided to wait up? I overheard them talking about me. They said that if I was with you, then they had a way of tracking me. I didn't understand. They couldn't be talking about the taboo, you guys had figured that out." He smiled grimly. "Then someone said, 'the traitors don't need to press their marks to summon the Dark Lord. The mark remembers the betrayal, and'... um, I don't remember the words, exactly, but if I touch something that activates the mark, that reminds it of what I did, the Dark Lord will be able to locate me." While speaking, he never looked away from their eyes, glaring at each in their turn. "There. Happy? Feel fulfilled?" He scowled.

_No_... thought Hermione. It didn't really make sense to her. But Harry just nodded, said a quick, "Well, that wasn't too bad," and left. Ron followed.

"Why was it so hard to tell us?" Hermione asked. Malfoy had turned away, and he gave her no answer. "Why is it that you wouldn't let me touch you out in the woods... before you overheard those Death Eaters?"

"Don't know." He said horsely. "It just seemed wrong."

"But I don't think that's it," Hermione said, frowning, taking a few steps forward. I think you had a reason... I just can't figure out what it was."

"Could it be," he said flatly, "that I was scared? Or is the idea of fear so impossible to someone like you?"

"What's impossible?" she said lightly. "We were told it was impossible to break into a Gringotts vault. We're going to try to prove that wrong. It is supposedly impossible to survive the Avada Kedavra curse, and yet Harry's still here. I don't really take the word 'impossible' that seriously anymore. I don't know if anything's really impossible." He said nothing, just gave a soft grunt. "After all, I'm here, talking to you, and neither of us has hexed the other yet."

Malfoy turned his head toward her. "You don't have a wand." His face was blank, but something like amusement glinted in his eyes.

"No, I don't." Hermione answered, raising her empty hands, smiling. "Should I be afraid?"

"Naturally." He said. He gave her a smile, before sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"You do that a lot." Hermione noted.

"Huh?"

"Um, you touch your hair..."

"Oh. Yeah... I guess." He pulled his hand down quickly. "Um..." he looked around the room. "I'm really tired."

"Oh. I should probably go and find Harry and Ron." Hermione said. "I'll see you later, then."

"I s'pose." he muttered.

"Bye."

"Bye."

She walked away, shooting back one glance before she turned a corner. He was watching her leave. They held eye contact for a very uncomfortable moment. But then he seemed to remember that he was annoyed with her, plastering a scowl across his face. It seemed as unnatural and superficial as his smile had been before.

After he was gone from sight, she smiled... just a little.

-o-o-o-

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking:** This was originally going to be a part of last chapter, but it was getting far too lengthy.

I appologize for taking so long to get to the action, but it all falls together very quickly after Gringotts. Ridiculously quickly. I have to set up everything here, at Shell Cottage.

Thank you, reviewers! I would not have made it even this far without you!


	7. Fear of a Word

**A/N:** A bit short, sorry. And, furthermore, it will be the last update for more than a week. My regrets!

Disclaimer: Let's put it this way... If I owned Harry Potter, Hermione would not have ended up with Ron.

Chapter 7: Fear of a Word

For the next few weeks, they would meet together outside on the cliffs, going over plans. There wasn't too much to discus, in truth. Their strategy was pretty simple... and none too solid, to Hermione's uneasiness. However, nothing could be done about it; Malfoy really didn't know too much about the bank.

"I've only been to the vault a couple of times with my father," he explained irritably, having failed to provide information Hermione felt adequate.

As they continued planning, Hermione grew more and more doubtful. It became obvious that the gaps in Malfoy's knowledge were far greater than he had first let on, and there was a lot of guess work done. They spent most of their time arguing and squabbling, none of them feeling prepared at all.

Because of the nervous tensions rising between the four of them, they all agreed to only discuss the bank for a couple hours every day. Any more time spent at each others' throats would prove very, very dangerous.

So they helped around the cottage. They walked along the cliffs. They spent time by themselves, they spent time with friends.

Hermione found herself walking outside often. It was calming, the salty air mixing with the familiar scents of early spring. It was a scent that made troubles seem to fade, that cleared the mind of Hallows and Horcruxes and the real world away from the ocean.

She often came across Malfoy as she strolled outside. He was usually in the same spot, right beside the cottage, sitting on a large boulder in the garden next to an old lilac tree, almost in bloom. He would be leaned back, eyes closed, seeming to be asleep. However, whenever she walked by, he would open his eyes and straighten. Sometimes (usually after a particularly rough session of planning,) he would only nod curtly to her, before again reclining. More often, though, he would slide off the rock and walk with her for a little bit.

They would talk. At times, it felt, to Hermione, that they both really needed each other's conversation: Hermione needed to talk to someone who had not built up the same image, the same expectations of her as everyone else, and Malfoy needed someone who was willing to exchange small talk with _him_, a Death Eater, a symbol, to many at the cottage, of all that was wrong in the world.

The topic of their conversations would vary, but they would try to avoid anything too deep. "Isn't the sea air refreshing?" Hermione once said, strolling by the cliffs with him. Malfoy only snorted in reply. "What do you mean by that?" she questioned.

"Well, maybe it's just because it's unfamiliar, but I'd rather smell Wiltshire." He said, shrugging, looking at his feet.

"Oh." Hermione paused. So he missed home? That seemed odd for someone who spent most of his time away, at school. But she never asked him for explanations to anything. It was something that they had wordlessly agreed on long before. "You spend a lot of time outside for someone who doesn't like the ocean." She instead remarked.

He didn't respond for a few steps. "I find that the air is very... mind cleansing." He shrugged.

"Me too."

He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "What are you trying to forget, then?"

"What?" She laughed. "Forget? I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You said that you find it mind cleansing as well. So what are you trying to cleanse your mind of? What don't you want to remember?" He spoke very earnestly, eyes not leaving her face. She gave him a wry smile, but his expression grew, in anything, more serious. She felt her cheeks heat.

"I'm not trying to forget anything. I only meant that it was relaxing."

"Ah." He said, looking down. The momentary tension had dissolved, leaving behind a silence that both were a bit uncomfortable with.

Finally Hermione asked quietly, "What are you trying to forget?"

His face blanched. Quickly though, before his expression could be clearly read, he slapped a smirk across his face. "I'll tell you when you've told me the truth about you."

"I _did_." She insisted, rolling her eyes. "Just because _you_ like to keep things secret and to yourself..."

"We all hide something." He said simply, combing through his hair with his fingers. "So. Have you gotten that new wand yet?"

"No, but Harry has his, and Olivander is making Ron's now..." and so they talked about simpler subjects for the remainder of their walk.

-o-o-o-

It was about a week later that Hermione realized something.

She had been walking outside again, alone, and she came to the garden. She was distracted, thinking about Gringotts. Then she heard a rustling next to her: Malfoy, standing up from where he had been seated beneath a large shrub. _Odd, _she thought,_ he's not by the lilac. _As he joined her in her walk, she realized that she was currently in an obscure corner of the garden, a good distance from where she usually strolled. A place where she seldom came. Her confusion rose.

She shot a glance backward, at the boulder and the lilac. What she saw surprised her: a patch of red hair among the purple blossoms, a grinning Harry leaning against the twisted trunk, looking up at his friend, chatting animately.

Why hadn't she noticed them when she passed by before? She _did_ pass by the tree, didn't she? She always had done so before. But no memory of walking by the tree that day came to her. And here she was, on the opposite side of the garden.

After briefly scouring her thoughts, she remembered altering her usual course slightly. Nothing too fancy, just turning off of the path, away from the cottage... away from the tree. Why had she done it? She honestly couldn't remember. Hadn't she noticed her friends? She couldn't have. But why had she changed course? And why had she found her way to where Malfoy was skulking?

Was she using Malfoy as an excuse to avoid her friends?

The thought scared her. It was Harry and Ron! The two boys who had stood behind her since their first Halloween together, since the troll! Harry, who she had learned from and fought beside. Ron, who – who tried to defend her in second year when Malfoy (the same Malfoy she now strolled beside,) called her a "mudblood." Her friends! However, as much as the idea repulsed her, it rang true... for even now, she couldn't bring herself to turn around and talk to them.

"Granger... is something wrong?"

She looked up at Malfoy. His head was cocked to the side curiously, face slightly... amused, almost. She tried to smile. "W-what? Of course! Why do you ask?"

"Just seem quiet... and more than usually moody." He shrugged.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Okay, then. Sorry. I won't bother being observant and caring in the future." He flashed her a smile. "I was always told that that was how to win points with the ladies, before. I was misinformed?"

"Oh, so you're trying to – what was it? – win points with me now? I didn't think you had it in you, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes.

This sort of banter was not uncommon, really, but always very artificial. They had grown a bit more comfortable with each other over the past weeks, but there was still a tension to their relationship, and there were still things that they knew they couldn't discuss. Sometimes, it was all they could do to avoid talking about the more dangerous things. They had an unspoken agreement, though... when uncomfortable, lighten the mood. In any way possible.

"I know, not quite up to my _usual_ standard, Granger, but Miss Dela- ah, I mean Mrs. Weasley is taken, so I'm forced to compromise."

"You're usual standard... Parkinson?"

"What are you implying?"

"Oh, nothing... you know. I'm sure that she has her charms. Deep down. Really deep down."

"Hey, be nice to Pansy. Really. Don't make me mock Weasley."

"Well, I guess she is pureblooded, huh? How far the great have fallen! You were just trying to 'win points' with a mudblood!"

She suddenly wished to call her words back to her. "Don't call yourself that!" he snapped, looking down. The garden seemed a bit colder, now. The air seemed to grow heavier around the two of them, the superficial, cheerful banter completely forgotten.

"What? It's what I am!" She felt an ounce of anger rising in her, even going as far as to finger the new wand that Olivander had made her. _Was he trying to forget what she was? Did it still matter to him? __Of course it did... seventeen years of prejudice don't just disappear,_ She thought miserably. She scowled, and shot back, "Mudblood, and proud of it!"

He winced. "That – that may be true, but..." He closed his eyes briefly. When they reopened, he seemed much more composed. "That doesn't make the word any less hateful."

"I'm not afraid of words. Words or names." Voldemort's name hung, unsaid, in the air. She saw Malfoy stiffen slightly.

"Can we not talk about this?" He asked.

"You were the first person to call me a mudblood!"

"Yes." He said, stopping in his tracks, glaring. "I was eleven. Or twelve? Doesn't matter. I was an idiot. I knew word was vile, and I thought I knew what it meant. So I threw it at you, threw everything I had at you." He smiled slightly. "I had _no clue_ what I was saying, believe me. When is the last time you heard me say that word?"

"Last year." She said without hesitation. _In the corridor, in that memory..._

"Yeah." He looked down, sighing. "Last year. What did I know then? Now, can we talk about something else?"

"Of course." She said icily. It was a lie, though. The words they had tried to avoid had been spoken, the past had been dug up again. Regardless of the fact that they no longer discussed the issue, it still hung heavy in the air. It filled the garden, until there wasn't room for even the smallest of small talk. After walking in silence for a few more moments, Hermione turned away, rushing for the cottage. _Maybe I'll talk to Ron_, she thought as she stepped through the doorway. But she found herself walking into the room that she and Luna shared. Luna wasn't there. Hermione wasn't sure if that relieved or upset her. She wasn't sure of much right then... she wasn't sure of what she, Harry, and Ron were suppose to do, she wasn't sure about there plans to break into Gringotts. She wasn't sure how she would bring herself to talk with Malfoy tomorrow. She wasn't sure why she found it so hard to be with her friends... but she was sure, quite certain now, that she was avoiding them. And it frightened her.

-o-o-o-

The next morning, she, Harry, and Ron found Malfoy, to further scrutinize their plans to get into Gringotts. However, before any of them could speak, Malfoy raised a hand. "We've talked about all there is to talk about. Multiple times. I know what you all think, you all know what I think." Hermione opened her mouth, but he shot her a hard glare, then continued, "We have nothing more to discuss. I will go over the plans. Once. Then we will go, immediately. The more we think about it, the more we'll make a mess of it." He ran a hand through his hair, looked up, and smiled dryly. "Who's ready to rob a bank, eh?"

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking:** Perhaps not my finest chapter, but it does set up a lot. It all unfolds rapidly, now... just think, in the book, the Battle of Hogwarts took place on the same day as the robbery of Gringotts. Eek!

As always, I thank my reviewers. Please, if you have anything to say, (advice, compliments, accusations) do say it! I want to write a story worth reading, but I can't really evaluate my work myself.


	8. Old Acquaintances

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters thereof, the themes thereof, or the billions of dollars thereof. (Shucky darn!)

Chapter 8: Old Acquaintances

Hermione ran a hand through her damp hair, wrinkling her nose at the sticky film it left on her fingers. "Malfoy? Are you absolutely sure about this?"

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Huh? The dye? Of course." He looked away again. "Gringotts has all sorts of defense lines for magical disguises, but they mostly ignore the muggle stuff." He spoke somewhat icily, letting her know that their disagreement had not been forgotten. She tried to push it out of her own mind, though. _Holding resentment will not help us... break into Gringotts_. She winced. It sounded crazy, even still. _Break into Gringotts._

"And you learned this dying trick from your mother?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. Like I said before, she started to use muggle dyes when she began to grey – "

"Which must have been pretty early, with you for a son..." Ron snorted softly.

Malfoy ignored him, continuing, "Because she didn't want to trigger the alarms whenever she visited the vault at Gringotts."

"But... dying our hair? And make-up? Are you sure that's really enough?"

"We've discussed this already! Many times, if I remember correctly! So, it'll be convincing enough, underneath those robes we got you guys. Besides, the only person who's got to convince them of anything is me."

"Alright..." Hermione sighed, pushing a lock of her now dark blond hair away from her face. She glanced at Ron, who was fiddling with his dyed-brown hair. He looked different, certainly, with his hair darker and his freckles hidden beneath layers of make-up... but he still looked like Ron. She bit her lip doubtfully. "But say someone recognizes – "

"Look, I've said it a million times," Malfoy snapped at her, "They didn't recognize you back home, at the manor, did they? A house full of people looking for you three, and they had to get me to identify you! And you're worried about _goblins_, honestly!"

"Goblins are smart, and they'll – "

"I've heard it already." He sighed. "Just get those cloaks on, and let's go. I've got it under control... how hard could it be for me to get to my family's own vault?" He rolled his eyes.

Hermione fought back the urge to argue further, knowing that all of them were high strung and irritable. She instead grabbed a dark cloak that she had found earlier and pulled it over her head. Next to her, Ron did the same. They both pulled the hoods up, shrouding their faces in shadow. Harry gave a forced laugh. "You two look very shady. Like you're going to rob a bank or something."

"Shady. Perfect." Malfoy smirked. "You'll fit right in on Diagon Alley, now. Got that cloak, Potter?" Harry held up his invisibility cloak. They had all decided that Harry was too recognizable and too fiercely wanted to be safely disguised. The invisibility cloak seemed the only alternative. "Good," Malfoy muttered, beginning to pace. "Okay, good. And everyone's got their wands?"

Hermione raised her new wand as Ron and Harry did the same. It felt awkward in her hand, stiffer and a bit rougher than the wand that she was used to... the wand that she had used since she was eleven... But that one was gone now. This new one was all that she had. _ And it worked well enough, really_, she told herself as she tucked it into her robes.

"Okay, okay, good." Malfoy muttered. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath. "Let's go, then." he said, straightening. "I trust that you all know what you're doing?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah."

"I guess..." Ron muttered hesitantly.

Malfoy gave a forced smile. "Really, it shouldn't be that bad... just keep quiet, keep down." He glanced around quickly. "Well... to the Leakey Cauldron, then." With a crack, he disappeared. Hermione looked to her friends, gave them both a grim smile, then, suddenly feeling the weight of what they were about to attempt, disapperated.

After she stumbled onto the pavement before the old inn, a wave of nausea gushed through her, rising in her stomach, pulling at her chest. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, forcing herself to fight back the feeling. Finally she straightened, the sensation reduced to nervous tugs in her gut... which she now identified as dread.

Beside her, Ron adjusted his sleeves and Malfoy pulled the hood of his pale robes over his head. She looked around, but didn't see Harry. _Cloak_, she thought. Or at least she hoped that he was there, invisible... because if he wasn't, they would have no way of knowing what item in the vault was the horcrux.

"Well, onward." said Ron, opening the door and entering the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione followed him in cautiously, looking apprehensively into the inn. She felt something brush her arm, but saw no one nearby her... _Harry_, she realized. He _was_ there.

Though not many people were inside of the inn, everybody that was there turned toward the group curiously. Hermione felt eyes following them as they all made their way across the room, toward the entrance to Diagon Alley. Her thin disguise felt less adequate than ever.

"Mr. Malfoy..." Tom, the old innkeeper said nervously. Malfoy turned toward him slightly, gave a curt nod, and turned away. Ron walked up to a wall, tapped it with his wand, and stepped back as the bricks began to spin and shift. After the doorway had formed, the group passed through to Diagon Alley.

Hermione had been expecting a grim sight. She had heard about much that had befallen the street, she had heard about the poor witches and wizards who now huddled there for refuge. However, the sight of the dismal alleyway still struck her mightily. She saw the people curled up in doorways. _Muggle-borns_, she thought. _Mudbloods_... The word that she had spoken so boldly the day before now felt dull and heavy inside her mind. Suddenly, looking out at the wretched heaps that shrank away from them, she hated it with a passion that she never had before.

"I am a wizard... I am, I..." one man moaned as she brushed by him. She felt terribly foul as she turned away from him, ignored him, couldn't meet his eyes. _I could be here_, she thought miserably.

She was brought out of her thoughts by an alarming call. "Lucius Malfoy!" She heard a clear voice cry, ringing out over the quiet street. She looked up sharply, glancing around for Malfoy's father. However, the speaker, a tall man with bushy grey hair, was walking toward _them_. Or rather, Malfoy. "Why, Lucius, I must say it's a surprise to see you here!"

If she was shocked at his approach, though, she was dumbfounded by Malfoy's reply. "Travers," he said coldly. Was he going to pretend to be his father, then? That was not a part of the plan. She tried to keep her face neutral, though, and hoped that he knew what he was doing.

"Why so chilly? And what are you doing out here?" The man's voice was light, but had an undertone of something more sinister. He had a... _look_ in his eyes as well, and Hermione knew that this man, this 'Travers', was no friend to Lucius Malfoy.

"I am visiting my vault."

"But I had heard that you and your wife were confined to the house after the escape and the... ah, betrayal." He raised an eyebrow, casually examining his hand.

Malfoy flinched visibly, but said, "The Dark Lord saw it fit for me to come here today. He knows I am not my son. He knows that I am no blood traitor."

"But still, the escape – "

"One mistake, next to years of faithful service, is not too serious." Malfoy said quickly. Hermione recognized his tone... he was getting flustered.

"But it hasn't just been one mistake for you, Lucius," Travers said maliciously, eyes glinting. "Has it? Or have you already forgotten the Department of Mysteries?" He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing out here, Lucius? The Dark Lord wouldn't send you here. He doesn't take you seriously anymore. No one does. Why, I just – "

"Lucius? We should be going." Hermione said, trying to sound disdainful.

Malfoy shot her a grateful glance, and said, "Yes, Anica, you're right. Good morning, Travers." He turned and began to stride away.

"Who are these two, Lucius? I don't believe we've met.

"This in Anica and Timothy Stewart, from Alberta." Malfoy answered over his shoulder. "They see, ah, eye to eye with us." With that, he increased his speed, escaping the conversation which he could not possibly keep up.

Travers looked skeptically at Ron and Hermione, who both rushed after Malfoy. Hermione glanced backward, and was relieved to see that the Death Eater was not following them. He only stood watching them leave, suspicion filling his face. He, standing in the middle of a sparsely populated street, wasn't lost from sight until the group walked up to the bank.

Hermione noted the two wizards standing outside of the doors, wielding narrow, golden poles. Probity Probes, Malfoy had called them back at Shell Cottage. He had said that they detected all spells of concealment and magical objects. She knew that she _should_ pass through them undetected, but she felt the nausea rise again all the same as she approached the steps. However, as she felt the poles brush over her, nothing happened. No alarms sounded, no spells flew, no one screamed _"Thief!" _and grabbed her.

"Ma'am, you can move in." One man said dully to her. She stumbled through the silver doors, into the bank.

Ron followed shortly after. "That was frightening," he muttered. Hermione smiled wryly. He continued, "So... where's Malfoy? I didn't see him get probed."

With a jolt, Hermione remembered that she hadn't either. "Was he behind us?" She asked.

"I don't know... but shouldn't have come in already?"

The answer was _yes_, but Hermione instead shrugged her shoulders weakly. She glanced around the marble hall nervously. "Malfoy?" She called.

"Yes, yes, over here!" She heard him call. "At the counter!"

She and Ron, (and Harry, she hoped,) rushed over to the counter, where Malfoy stood, waiting to speak to a goblin. "I didn't see you come in," Hermione whispered.

"I was before you." He shrugged.

"Ah." After a moment, remembering the incident on the street, she glared at him. "Why did you pretend to be your father?" she asked forcibly. "That wasn't a part of the plan!"

He shrugged. "People are more likely to listen to my father, anyway."

Finally the goblin looked up. "Mister Malfoy," he said. "How may I help you today?"

"I'm here to visit my vault," Malfoy sniffed. Hermione glanced around. There were not many people inside the bank, but they were all staring at Malfoy. She felt worry building up inside her... if everyone knew that Lucius was supposed to be confined, then they would be very suspicious.

"You have... identification, I trust?" The goblin asked slowly. "A wand will do..."

Malfoy stiffened. "My wand was broken. I thought that this was well known." He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. "I have been using this one."

The goblin leaned over the counter to see the wand clearly. He looked up, eyebrows raised. "That is – is that your son's wand?"

"It was." Malfoy said simply. "I took it, though, after his betrayal. I've been using it since."

"I see." the goblin muttered, tilting his head to one side. He glanced upward. "May I examine it?"

"No," Malfoy said, tucking the wand into his cloak again. "You recognize it. Isn't that enough?"

"I'm not sure." The goblin said. "It certainly seems to be Draco Malfoy's wand."

"Then I want to visit my vault. Now." Malfoy drew himself up. "I have very limited time. I don't want to bother with this nonsense any longer. Or do I need to take my business elsewhere?"

"I am very sorry for any inconvenience, Mister Malfoy," the goblin said carefully, "but we must be cautious."

"Yes, and so I showed you my wand. That is plenty."

The goblin looked doubtful, but stood up. "I shall need the Clankers," he said. He warily moved away, disappearing from sight. Hermione glanced at Malfoy, who stared ahead grimly, then turned her gaze to Ron. He met her eyes nervously, trying to give a reassuring smile.

Finally the goblin returned, carrying a leather bag that jingled with his step. "Follow me, Mr. Malfoy," he grunted, walking toward one of the many doors leading off down the hall. Malfoy wordlessly fell into step, followed by Ron and Hermione.

The goblin turned around, black eyes narrowing. "Mister Malfoy alone, please. For security reasons."

"I wish the Stewarts, my two associates, to accompany me." Malfoy said.

The goblin looked up at them all critically. Hermione felt herself tense as his eyes rested on her, examining her. "These two are not known to us at Gringotts. It is not customary on such short notice... but old families..." He looked down, apparently thinking. Finally he said shortly, "If they will give me their wands to keep while we are in the vaults."

Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket to hand over, but Malfoy motioned her to stop. "Let us discuss this," he said, taking a few steps away and beckoning Ron and Hermione to follow.

As soon as they were out of the goblin's hearing range, Hermione said, "I think that it's perfectly reasonable to give him our wands. He'll be carrying them, and we'll just take them back – "

"I don't like it." Malfoy said nervously, fingering his hair. "What if something goes wrong? Without your wands, we're doomed. Besides, putting _wands_ in the care of a _goblin_... it's unheard of..."

"Not much you guys can do, is there?" Hermione heard Harry whisper from nearby. Malfoy flinched, glancing around, apparantly uncomfortable with being addressed by someone he couldn't see.

"So... we just go along with it?" Ron bit his lip. "This wand business wasn't a part of the plan."

Malfoy sighed. "Nothing, really, has gone according to plan." He scowled slightly, then paused, thinking. "Well..." he finally said, "Let's go back. Don't want to seem too suspicious." He turned away, walking toward the front counter before another word could be spoken.

Hermione shared a glance with Ron, before he turned to follow Malfoy. Before Hermione could fall into step, though, she noticed someone standing at the entrance to the bank... Travers, from the street. He was studying the group carefully, arms crossed. Hermione turned away sharply and walked back to the counter, rubbing her hands together nervously.

" – can't see why this is really necessary," Malfoy was saying irritably to the goblin, "No such thing has been done before, I should know, and – "

"Security has been tightened, Mister Malfoy..." the goblin started to explain, before he was interrupted by a level voice that made Hermione squirm uncomfortably.

"I can also vouch for these two." Travers walked up behind Ron and Hermione. "Mr. And Ms. Stewart? I believe that they can keep their wands." He turned toward the goblin. "I will accompany you, though, if it would make you feel more comfortable."

The goblin looked up nervously. "I don't believe that will be necessary."

"Nonsense!" Travers smiled. "Besides, Lucius had something that he wanted to show me in the vault. Correct?" He gave Malfoy a pointed look.

"But – but of course," Malfoy said nervously, looking at the floor.

The goblin looked very skeptical, but motioned for them all to follow him. While walking into the stony, torch-lit tunnel, Hermione studied Travers, who was keeping his face eerily blank. _What did he want? _She wondered. She could easily tell that he was on poor terms with Lucius Malfoy. Why, then, would he help them get into the bank?

The goblin whistled to hail a cart. It was larger than the usual cart, with three rows of benches instead of the normal two. The goblin climbed into the front, motioning the others into the other rows. Hermione stepped in first, sliding into the middle row. Travers was quick to follow, calmly sitting beside her. Ron opened his mouth, about to protest, but Hermione shook her head sharply. Scowling, he and Malfoy slid into the back row.

The cart jerked to life, quickly gathering speed. Soon it hurtled through the twisting tunnels, torches whizzing past Hermione's ears. Sometimes, through the noise of air rushing past her ears, she could hear snippets of the conversation Malfoy and Ron were having.

"... I can't believe... Travers... were you thinking?... trying to..." She could barely hear Ron say. She strained her ears, trying to hear the rest of what they muttered to each other.

"... don't know... he seems to... if he thinks I'm father then... thought he would... your wands..."

She wanted to turn around and look at them, join in the talk, but she didn't want Travers to notice. He couldn't be allowed to overhear anything. She stared blankly ahead, trying to ignore the man she supposed to be a Death Eater seated directly beside her. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her. She rubbed her hands together in her lap, trying to focus on something else...

Behind her, she heard a few words of what Ron was whispering to Malfoy. "...about a couple of wands?... he can't know... Harry..."

As soon as Ron had said their friend's name, Travers grinned madly and turned to face her, hissing, "_Accio wands_!" Hermione felt her wand fly out of her pocket. She turned to see Travers holding three wands in a fist, his own outstretched.

Suddenly she felt her hood tugged down, felt a wand thrust at her neck. She gasped, trying to wrench herself away, but Travers grabbed her hair and twisted her to face the back of the cart. He muttered something, and her whole body went stiff. She tried desperately to move away, to no avail. He flicked his wand at Ron, who had stood up, hands balled into fists, paralyzing him as well. "Alright," he breathed, addressing Malfoy, "Who are you?"

Malfoy was shaking. Out of fear? Out of anger? Hermione didn't know. "Let her go." He said, face tightly drawn, lips barely moving. "Let her go _now._"

"Who are you? Tell me!" He ordered, still keeping somewhat quiet, so as not to attract the attention of the goblin in the front seat.

_Where is Harry?_ Hermione wondered. _Why isn't Harry helping?_

"I'm M-Malfoy, Lucius Mafoy, you know me – _let her go now or I will_ – "

"No you are not! I talked to Lucius Malfoy just minutes ago, after our little encounter on the street. He is at Malfoy Manor, where he has been since Easter." Travers growled, before muttering some incantation under his breath. Hermione's restraint grew stronger, so strong that she couldn't move enough to fill her lungs, couldn't breathe... She felt her toes and fingers start to tingle, her chest start to ache...

"No! You're right! I'm not! It's – I'm Draco! Draco, I'm Draco Malfoy!"

"Liar!" spat Travers. For only a moment, Hermione tightened so far that she felt her heart skip a beat... then, suddenly all was released. She went limp, held up only by the Travers's grip on her hair. She coughed feebly. "You've got to learn that there are punishments for when you lie," he said mildly, pulling Hermione up a bit further.

"I'm not lying..." croaked Malfoy.

"Luckily, I think I know exactly who you are." he said. He dropped Hermione and examined his hand, the one that had been gripping her hair. He rubbed his fingers together. "Odd... that feels like dye... muggle dye, very clever..." He pointed his wand to Hermione, hissed, "_Scourgify_!" and pulled her up again. She struggled against him, but found herself paralyzed once more. "Ah, look now! Brown hair. In fact, she looks a lot like a certain mudblood that we've all heard of." Hermione's blood chilled. Travers cocked an eyebrow looking at Ron. "And as for Mr... was it _Timothy_ Stewart? _Scorgify_!" Ron's face was suddenly freckled again, beneath very red hair. "Ah, a Weasley." Travers looked to Malfoy, smiling triumphantly. "And where those two are, there's sure to be one other! You are Harry Potter! How you managed to get in here under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, I shall never know, but you _are_ Potter! I've found you!" He pulled up his left sleeve. "It won't take long at all for the Dark Lord to arrive," he said softy, reaching a finger toward the dark marks that twisted on his forearm.

Suddenly, a loud yell sounded nearby. Travers look up, shocked.

"What is going on back there?" Called the goblin. Hermione felt the cart lurch around a tight turn, then heard the pounding rush falling water. Lots of it. She couldn't turn her head to see what was ahead, but she saw Travers gaze up in confusion, while Malfoy grinned.

Then she felt the cart fly into what seemed like a wall of water. It pounded down on her, soaking her in an instant, filling her eyes and mouth and ears... Then, as soon as she felt air touch her skin again, the cart lurched to the side, off the track. She was falling, falling – it struck her that she could move, she was no longer paralyzed – but what did it matter to her now, as she fell? As the ground rushed up to meet her?

-o-o-o-

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking:** So sorry for the wait! Anyways, I'm back in full swing now.


	9. The Dragon

And know it's time for the _disclaimer_, my way of saying that, in case you couldn't guess, I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 9: The Dragon

She landed roughly on her hands and knees, scraped, but still alive. Shaking, she scrambled to her feet, looking around at the pieces of the shattered cart, trying to figure out how she had survived. To her side, Ron and Malfoy were also getting up. There was still no sign of Harry. The goblin stood before them, hand held aloft, face furious.

Next to her, Travers raised his wand. "Drop that! Now!" barked the goblin. With a sharp _click_, the wand fell to the stone floor. The goblin walked closer to the group, examining them all carefully. "What triggered the Thief's Downfall?" he snapped. There was a pause. "Speak up!"

"Um, w-what is the, ah, Thief's Downfall?" Ron asked falteringly, shaken.

"That waterfall that we passed through." explained the goblin, black eyes narrowed. "It detects and washes away all enchantment." He glared at each of them. "Something triggered it, and so the cart was thrown off of the tracks. You would all be dead now if I hadn't cushioned your fall."

"It was those three!" yelled Travers. "Look at them! He-he's Harry Potter, trying to rob the Malfoys!"

Malfoy turned to face him, scowling. "If I _was_ Potter, wouldn't the, er, _Thief's Downfall_ have washed away my appearance? I told you, I am Lucius Malfoy."

Travers looked confused. "But..."

Malfoy turned away from him. "This man had my associates under a paralysis charm, which must have triggered the Thief's Downfall." he coolly told goblin. "He was threatening them and me, wishing to rob my vault."

The goblin examined Travers, pondering Malfoy's words. He turned to Hermione and Ron. "Is this true?" He asked. They both nodded nervously.

"No!" Travers yelled, looking from Malfoy to the goblin and back again. "No – I wasn't trying to – to _rob_ anybody! These three are impostors! You see, look..." He grabbed Hermione by the sleeve. "Her hair was blond before, right? She was in disguise! She's that Granger girl, the one that is helping Potter!" Hermione pulled herself away, trying not to look frightened. "And the boy," Travers continued, "Weasley for sure! See? He was disguised before, but now he has red hair! _They _are the ones who triggered the waterfall thing!"

The goblin examined them carefully. "They do seem different," He muttered to himself.

"But I'm with them!" Malfoy almost shouted. "Even if they had a few cosmetic, ah, enchantments," He stumbled, "They are still with me, and I still want them to accompany me to my vault! He," he pointed to Travers, "was threatening us, telling me that I was Harry Potter!" He gave a forced laugh.

A stiff silence fell, as the goblin closely studied each one of them. Finally, he slowly ordered, "Come with me all of you, – I don't want any trouble! – you will all be put in custody and searched."

"No!" shouted Malfoy, "I am Lucius Malfoy, and I demand – "

He was interrupted by a cry of surprise from Travers. "Who – " There was a flash of red light, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. The goblin yelled something up the corridor, something that Hermione couldn't decipher, then fell down in a red flash as well.

"Are you guys alright?" Harry asked, taking off the invisibility cloak.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, throwing her arms around him in a hug. After a second she pulled away, asking, "What happened? Where were you?"

Harry folded the cloak and tucked it inside of his robes. "I got into the cart next to the goblin, in the front. I was there the whole time."

Ron scowled. "Then why didn't you help us with that Travers bloke?"

"He took my wand, remember? He took all of our wands. I just barely got mine back. Wrenched it out of his hands. Oh, here – " he held out his hand, which grasped Hermione's and Ron's wands. "He had these, too."

Hermione grabbed her wand, smiling thankfully at her friend. "But what about Malfoy?" She asked, suddenly remembering.

Harry looked confused. "He didn't have his wand."

Hermione glanced to Malfoy, who was leaning over Travers. "He's right, it's not here," He said nervously, drumming his fingers. He anxiously patted his trouser's pockets. A look of surprise passed over his face; he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. "What the..." He asked, stroking the side of the wand. After a moment, he shook his head dismissively. "Oh well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We have to get out of here... I'm betting that we'll be seeing some more people down here shortly. Could one of you carry the goblin?"

Harry leaned over, throwing the goblin over his shoulder. "'Kay," he grunted, "Let's go."

"Wait!" Malfoy cautioned. He took a step closer, bending down to examine the goblin. "Does he have the Clankers? We need the Clankers."

"Um," Harry looked at the goblin, before answering, "No. He must have dropped them somewhere... or left them in the cart." They all gazed around at the rubble, the debris that was all that remained of the cart. "_Accio Clankers!_" Harry called feebly, to no avail. Nothing came. "Too deep in the vault, I guess," he said anxiously. "We won't have time to, ah, find them, will we?"

Malfoy glared down at the broken pieces of cart. "No. Not a chance." He furiously scratched at his hair. Finally he let out a sigh. "Let's go, quick, before more goblins find us."

"But Malfoy!" Hermione said, frightened, "What about – ?"

"We'll deal with the dragon when we get there." He said crossly, walking away without a backwards glance.

"W-wait! Malfoy!" Ron yelled after him. "I'm not just – we can't just face a dragon without any sort of preparation! There's no way! We... we just need to find those Clankers."

"Then stay here. Get caught." Malfoy answered exasperatedly, not turning around, or even slowing down.

The three friends paused a moment, watching as Malfoy walked ahead into the dark stone corridors. They listened to a sound that drifted through the hallway... the sound of something very large, very dangerous, and not too far away. Hermione rubed her hands together. _We've made it this far,_ she thought to herself, _and if we're caught, we may just as well be cornered by a dragon._ Taking a deep breath, she ran after Malfoy. Behind her, Ron and Harry hesitantly followed.

It didn't take long at all for them to reach the last turn in the corridor. Hermione glanced around the corner, though she hardly needed to do so. The sound of rough scales scraping against stone, the low rumble that made the floor vibrate, the feeling of sudden heat and dryness in the air... they all made it quite obvious what crouched beyond. However, seeing the pale dragon chained to the floor of the massive chamber still sent a wave of frightened awe coursing through her.

"Merlin," she whispered.

"How will we get in?" Harry asked, raising his wand slightly. The dragon was crouched over the vault doors, and was not going to be easily moved. They had needed the Clankers, Malfoy had said, because the dragon had been taught to fear the noise that they made.

As they all pondered their dilemma, Malfoy studied the dragon, eyebrows raised. Hermione watched him curiously as a flicker of worry crossed his face. After a moment, he turned to the group. "The Lestrange vault is that one, nearest to us," he said quickly. "Do try to hurry in there." Having said that, he pulled out his wand, and ran out into the chamber, shouting, "_Protego!_"

"Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked.

"Are you _daft_?" Ron yelled after him. He didn't stop.

"Come on," Harry urged, watching the dragon as he followed Malfoy, roaring furiously. "We have to hurry, we can't leave him out there long." He shifted the unconscious goblin on his shoulders. "He'll be okay," he added quickly, seeing Hermione's frantic look, "the bloke isn't an idiot. He's got no wish for a heroic death, and I'm sure he's planned accordingly."

She smiled gratefully, before they all dashed to the Lestrange vault. Harry pulled the goblin off of his shoulders with a grunt and pressed its hand to the door. He stepped back, watching as the wooden door melted away and vanished, revealing the mess of treasures that lay inside of the vault. "Okay," he breathed, taking in the disorganized dump of innumerable, invaluable riches, which lay in piles, gold upon silver. It covered the floor in heaps, and covered the walls, piled upon shelves. "Malfoy said to not go in or touch anything until we are sure of where this thing is... so look for a small, golden cup, or something with Ravenclaw's eagle on it..."

"But there's so much stuff in there," Ron said, biting his lip, "And it could be buried in any one of those piles, or inside one of those boxes," he pointed to the back of the vault, where a row of chests lay, closed and locked.

"Just look!" Harry ordered.

Hermione peered into the vault, trying desperately to see the small cup. Just once she looked back, hearing the dragon roar, and tried to find Malfoy, to see how he was doing. He was across the room, a protective charm surrounding him like a pane of glass, flashing light from his wand into the dragon's face. Hermione cringed; the bright flashes revealed deep cuts across the dragon's muzzle. _"He has been taught to be afraid of the noise the Clankers make,_" She remembered Malfoy's rather nonchalant words from their planning sessions. She felt bile rise up in her throat.

After a moment more of studying the scene before her, the pale young man beneath the large, ill kept dragon, she sharply turned back to the treasure in the vault.

Finally, Harry shouted, "It's there, it's up there!" He pointed up to a high shelf, where, indeed, a small cup, gold, with two handles, glittered in the light from the chamber.

"Brilliant!" Ron breathed.

Hermione didn't say anything, just sighed in immense relief. She rushed into the vault to grab the cup, ignoring the sudden heat that surrounded her like a furnace. However, she brushed a suit of armor walking in. It began to shake and totter. She let out a yelp and rushed back out of the vault, watching in shock as the armor multiplied, identical suits of armor springing into being around it.

"What happened?" She gasped.

"Hermione! Look at your sleeve!" Harry said. She fingered the spot on her sleeve that had brushed up against the armor: a large hole had been scorched into it, letting off the putrid odor of burnt cloth.

"It burned me..." she whispered. "It must be some sort of protection spell,"

Suddenly a new noise filled the chamber, coming from the dim corridor. A clanking, ringing noise, the noise of metal on stone. For a moment, the dragon's roars grew silent. Then they began anew, but more desperate. Roars of pain and fear, no longer anger.

Between the dragon's cries, Malfoy yelled from across the chamber. "Those are the Clankers!" He shouted hoarsely. He said something else as well, but his words were lost as the dragon again began to rumble.

"More goblins must be coming!" Hermione cried. She, pulling out her wand, turned toward the chamber's entrance. "_Protego_!" she hissed.

"Good thinking," Harry said, rubbing his hands nervously.

"But how long will it hold?" Ron fretted. "Let's hurry and get that cup."

"But how – ?" Harry pondered aloud. After a moment, he turned to Hermione. "We can't bring the cup down to us with magic, so I've got to get up there."

She understood what he was saying perfectly. "Are you certain?" She asked. "Should Ron or I do it?"

"Just hurry!" He yelled, running into the vault, careful to avoid touching anything.

"_Levicorpus,_" she whispered, watching as Harry was lifted in the air by his ankle.

As he reached to grab the cup, Hermione cast a nervous glance back at the Chamber's entrance. In the corridor beyond, only kept out by a thin protection charm, a mob of goblins swarmed. One wizard, towering over the goblins, approached the doorway, wand out. Travers, it seemed, once again conscious. Hermione cursed herself for not thinking of taking his wand before. "Hurry!" She cried, trying to reinforce her spell, "They'll be through in a moment!"

"Agh! I've g-got it!" Harry called. "_Liberacorpus!_" Hermione cringed as he cried out in pain. In seconds he was out of the vault, shoving the cup into his pocket, nursing his burned and blistered hands. He also had something tucked under his arm, but before Hermione could see what it was, the spell over the entranceway failed, and a flood of goblins poured into the chamber. The chamber echoes with Clankers. The dragon gave a hoarse roar, shrinking back into the wall. Hermione tried to see Malfoy beneath it, but couldn't.

"_Stupify!_" Harry yelled, pointing his wand into the mob of goblins. He began to fight his way through them, Stunning Spells flying from his wand. Hermione and Ron joined in.

Eventually, Hermione stopped even wondering where Harry could possibly be leading them. She set her mind solely on stunning as many goblins as possible, hoping that Harry had a plan, knowing that, in all likelihood, he didn't. Every now and then, she would see the face of Travers among the goblins, but he would always disappear before she could hex him.

The dragon roared again, and Hermione felt the heat of a jet of flame nearby. A brief pause followed, before Harry cried, "_Relashio!_" Hermione glanced back as the cuffs around the dragon's leg cuffs broke open, banging loudly. "This way!" He yelled at his friends.

"Harry – Harry – What are you doing?" She cried desperately. She couldn't understand... Were the goblins not enough? Did he need to release the dragon as well?

"Get up, climb up, come on – " He yelled, working his way up on the dragon.

Seeing his plan, Hermione madly scrambled up the hard, steely dragon scales, pushed along by Ron. "Malfoy!" She shrieked. "Malfoy! Get on the Dragon! _Malfoy!_"

The dragon seemed to realize that it was free, rearing up with a roar. Hermione clutched at the scales, franticly trying to stay on top. "Malfoy!" she called again, desperate.

"Over here!" She heard him yell, voice barely carrying over the dragon's roars and the goblins' clanking and cries. She leaned over, looking down at the ground beneath the bucking dragon. Malfoy was there, trying to climb up the dragon's heaving sides, but was repeatedly thrown off.

"Here," she cried, reaching down. "Grab my hand!"

"No!" He cried. "I can't!"

"Please!" she shrieked as the dragon began to move forward, toward the chamber's entrance.

"No, I'll make it!" He took a step back, then, gritting his teeth, leaped up, scrabbling at the scales as he hit them. He seemed almost about to fall again, when the dragon suddenly lurched backwards. With a cry, Malfoy flopped over, hitting the back of the dragon.

Just as he began to settle, the dragon leaped into the air, flying towards the passage opening. Hermione shrieked as it dived toward the door. "We'll never get out, it's too big!" She screamed. However, through fire, force, and sheer desperation, the dragon blasted through the entranceway, sending stones flying into the passage. The goblins yelled madly behind them, but their cries grew more and more distant as the dragon worked its way up the corridors, climbing toward the fresher air. Hermione pulled out her wand, crying, "_Defodio,_" trying to enlarge the passageway for the dragon. Soon Harry and Ron both joined her, carving out the ceiling. Behind them, stones and rubble piled up.

"I – I don't know if it'll be able to make it out!" She cried, to no one in particular.

"Of course it will!" Malfoy yelled back. "You saw what they've done to the poor beast! He'll get out or die trying – and killing a dragon is not an easy thing to do!" The image of the beast's muzzle, scarred and mutilated, came to her mind. Of course he would make it out. He wasn't going to back down, not for anything.

"You know," Malfoy called, "'Draco,' in Latin, means 'dragon'!"

"Then I guess you'd know all about them, huh?"

He gave a short, barked laugh. "Not really. Never put much study into the beasts. Maybe I will, when this is all over!"

Suddenly, over the crash of shattering rock, Ron cried out in surprise. She peered over her shoulder to see Travers, who must have climbed on back at the bank, grabbing his leg, trying to tug him off balance. Ron gave him a kick, sending him skidding backwards. He yelped, trying to stop himself from falling off the dragon. He had almost skidded off, when he grabbed at one of the dragon's back legs. He clung to it desperately, yelping as his wand slipped away from him was lost from sight.

"Who _are_ you?" He moaned

Nobody answered him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were trying to enlarge the cavern, and Malfoy was gazing back at him, eyebrows raised. "_Who are you_?" He hissed, a bit louder. All around, rocks broke and tumbled. Hermione, still shooting spells, turned to watch him. "I know you are not Lucius Malfoy! He is back at Malfoy Manor!"

Draco leaned toward him as far as he could without losing his grip on the dragon. "What if I'm Draco?" He called, shaking as the dragon burst through a row of stalactites.

"You can't be him, either," the Death Eater barked. "The real Draco Malfoy is at Malfoy Manor, too!" He gave a short laugh between his heavy breaths. "I saw – "

At that moment, the dragon burst out of the stony corridors, into the marble hall at the front of the bank. Terrified goblins and wizard dived out of the way as the dragon pushed toward the grand silver doors. With a cry, Travers lost his grip around the dragon's leg and tumbled to the floor. Before Hermione could turn to check on him, to make sure he was alright, the dragon burst through the bank's doors, leaving them hanging on their hinges as it took to the skies, outside, free.

It rose above Diagon Alley, higher and higher. Hermione, sobbing in both terror and exhilaration, watched as Gringotts bank shrank away from view.

After a few minutes of watching the land beneath her shrink, crying, she shouted up to Malfoy, "What – what did Travers mean, b-by the real Draco Malfoy?" Glancing at him, she caught her breath. He had gone deathly pale, his eyes wide and dim. "W-what did he mean?" she repeated, slowly.

Draco shook his head slowly. "I... I don't know..." he said falteringly, "But it can't mean anything good..."

The dragon climbed higher yet, and soon London was lost from sight.

-o-o-o-

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: **There! They got into the bank, they got the Horcrux, and they got out of the bank... all without using an Unforgivable Curse! Not even once! Ha! (That always irritated me in the book. It's like the Unforgivable Curses are only unforgivable when _bad guys_ use them. If Harry uses them, then... well, I digress.)

Wow, thank you all for the lovely reviews! They really make this writing feel a lot more gratifying.

Speaking of which, I have a proposition. In the next few chapters, (okay, maybe a _bit _more than a few,) I hope to reach 50 reviews. This is a bit of a landmark for me. In fact, the idea has made me so happy that I am willing to...

a) write a one shot

or b) draw a picture to post on DeviantArt

... based on a prompt that my 50th reviewer provides, should they so desire. (PG rated, please, and Harry Potter oriented.) So how about it?


	10. Blue, Grey, and Red

Disclaimer: The only thing that I own here is the order in which the words are written. I suppose I could claim a part of the idea, but I don't think that would hold up in court if it were challenged.

Chapter 10: Blue, Grey, and Red

She had no idea how much time passed by as she clung to the dragon, peering at the ground beneath her, fretting. She had so much to fret about. Now they had another Horcrux, but how would they destroy it? Where would they go to find the last Horcrux? They didn't even know what it was!

And what about Malfoy?

She drew a breath, glancing up at him as he clung to the dragon's steely scales. His eyes were closed against the wind, the skin around them grey, rimmed with red. _What about Malfoy,_ she thought again, slowly. He was a problem that she just couldn't fathom, a mystery that she had little time to explore. _"The real Draco Malfoy is at Malfoy Manor too!"_ Travers had said. She mused on that quietly. She was pretty sure that the shaken boy ahead of her was the genuine Malfoy.

Or was he? Was he the boy that taunted her since age eleven, the boy who joined the Death Eaters at age sixteen, who had grown up with their ideals and views? Why would he just... change sides? Help them destroy the man that he once called master?

Her mind drifted to the conversations that they had shared at Shell Cottage. Who_ had_ she been talking to?

Ahead of her, Malfoy drew a shuttering breath, his shoulders shaking... or was it just the wind? Regardless, she could easily see that he was just as confused (and far more upset) than her. How could he be anyone other than who he said he was? And not know about it? No, the 'Draco Malfoy' at Malfoy Manor had to be the impostor.

She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on other things, other issues... but gradually, the rhythm of the dragon beneath her lulled her into a daze – not sleep, heavens no! – but a trance of sorts. Her mind wandered freely, never settling on anything. Images of golden cups, of rolls of fresh parchment, of lilac trees and blue eyes narrowed in suspicion... they all rolled through her mind. She had no control of them. Even as she tried to take hold of an image, a memory, it would bent, contort...

A waltz drifted through her mind, she was dancing with Ron at the wedding… punching Malfoy in third year... then begging him to get on the dragon... ocean air, breaking windows, holding hands with Ron, his skin warm and soft...

When she felt a hand on her foot, it was hard to tell if it was real or not. She almost jumped, but was luckily able to keep herself down, clutching to the dragon as it soared. "Hermione," Ron called over the wind, "Hermione, the dragon is going down!"

She cracked her eyes open. Cautiously, she peered over the edge of the dragon, at the ground far below... but it wasn't so far below anymore. She could make out details in the deep green mountains, could see a great number of small lakes flashing in the light of the now sinking sun.

The dragon was spiraling down, in giant, sweeping circles. It seemed to be drawing closer to one of the lakes. "I say we jump when it gets low enough!" she heard Harry yell. "Straight into the water before it realizes we're here!"

"Okay!" shouted Ron.

"Mm-hmm..." Hermione said faintly, watching the lake grow larger beneath her.

"Wait – " Malfoy began faintly, but before he could finish, Harry shouted.

"NOW!"

Hermione, closing her eyes, threw herself off of the dragon. For an almost giddy moment she hung in the air, then, with tremendous force, she slammed into the lake. She was immediately entangled in the reeds. She kicked frantically, clawing for the surface, where she grabbed a quick, gasping breath before sinking again. Kicking madly, she threw herself to the side, needing to find water shallow enough to stand in. It didn't take too long; the lake seemed to be very shallow. Soon she was fighting her way through reeds and mud and, before too long, she flopped onto the grassy bank, shaking and coughing.

She heard Ron and Harry, beside her, rise to their feet. Harry was muttering something, protective spells, maybe, and Ron was panting... but nothing from Malfoy. Thinking back, she hadn't seen him in the water, either. "M-Malfoy..." she choked out between coughs.

"Present," she heard him say absently.

She shot up to a sitting position, looking toward the voice. He stood a short distance off, looking down, still a bit paler than usual. "Oh," she sighed, shaking. She again began to cough, noticing that he wasn't out of breath, wasn't even wet. Finally, she recovered enough to gasp, "How – how did you get over here? Why aren't you wet?"

"Apparated," he said flatly, not glancing up. "It seemed a good idea."

"Oh," she said, beginning to recover her breath. "Apparated. Wait - you apparated off of the back of a flying dragon? Is that possible?"

"Obviously." Malfoy said, "It's hard to apparate onto a moving object. But off of one?" He gave a weak shrug. "Just required a bit of concentration. Much easier than what you did."

"Possibly." She looked across the lake and saw the dragon, now landed, drinking deeply from the lake. It reminded her of something, a bone she had to pick with Malfoy. "Why," she began, standing up to face him, her breathing heavy, but now controlled, "Didn't you take my hand before, getting on the dragon?"

He looked up, face expressionless. "I can't touch – "

"Yes, yes, I know, or You-Know Who will know where we are. But he was going to find out we were there anyways! It wouldn't really matter if – "

"How long do you think it would take him to get there?" Malfoy asked, eyes narrowed. "And we were in quite the vulnerable spot. Not much you can do on the back of a dragon, not many places to run, to hide." He smiled wryly. He was no longer as pale, a flush had risen in his cheeks. "No. I got on the dragon fine, so I can't see why – "

"Do you know how close that was?" she seethed.

He crossed his arms. "Yeah. I think I noticed."

"You made it, yes, but you _almost _didn't, and then where would we be?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Exactly where you were before I showed up? Pretty much where you are now?" He gave a half smile. "I was just supposed to get you into the bank... are you saying I'm needed now? I feel so important!"

Hermione felt her cheeks heat. "Oh... I – I'm just so used to the planning, to all of us talking, and..." she rambled. He just broadened his grin.

After finishing casting the protective spells, Harry approached. Hermione was shocked by the number of burns across his hands and face, at the large scorch marks across his cloak. Scars from the Gringotts vault. "Oh, Harry," she moaned, wincing. "Here, let me get the essence of dittany..."

"What?" he asked, looking confused. "Oh..." he glanced down at the burns, "That... that can wait. Let's destroy the cup, now."

"We can't, Harry," Ron said, walking over. "Remember? Nothing to destroy it with. I guess we'll just be carrying it around, like the locket."

Harry grinned widely, and pulled a silver sword out from his cloak... Gryffindor's sword.

"How...?" Ron began, before trailing off.

"The vault. It was there, just sitting on a shelf."

"It's just the duplicate, Harry..." Hermione said, biting her lip. "They had a fake, a copy in the vault..."

"Bellatrix has had the real sword for weeks, now. Since we escaped Malfoy Manor." Harry said. "Don't you think she would have put it in the vault and taken the duplicate out?"

"I don't know, would she have?"

"There's only one way to find out," Harry said, pulling the small golden cup from his robes. He handed Hermione the sword. "I think you should take this one, Hermione."

She took a step back, letting the tip of the sword fall to the grass. She lifted it weakly, testing the weight. She glanced back at Malfoy, who was staring back and forth between the cup and the sword, entranced, forehead creased in confusion. They had never told him what they wanted to steal from the vault, or what it meant to Voldemort. He had no clue what they were doing.

"Are you sure, Harry..." she squeaked.

Harry gave a shrug. "It... feels right. Ron and I have both had our turns, you know."

She bit her lip and raised the sword above the cup. She gazed down into the cup, the shining gold... it reflected the evening sky above, turning the rim blue. She still held the sword aloft, but slackened her fierce hold on it. _It looks like an eye,_ she thought to herself. _A blue eye, with a large, shadowy pupil..._ even as she thought this, the rim turned a blood red.

"Hermione?" Ron nudged her gently.

A memory she had recently dug up slammed back into her mind. _A waltz. She was dancing with Ron, surrounded by joyous wedding guests and gold decorations... his hand was at her waist, and her shoes were beginning to make her feet hurt... Then, for some reason, everything was golden, shining, blinding. She looked up to Ron, scared, but he was glaring at her, his blue eyes the only other color in sight. As she stared at them, grey rolled in, like storm clouds over a summer sky. They flashed with lightning. She screamed as his hand, still on her waist, grew blistering hot... she was burning, burning... _

_ Then she was alone, freezing, in the rain, shouting Ron's name, but he was gone now... he had left... she felt the forest floor crush beneath her feet..._

_ ...then she saw that same corridor at Hogwarts, and again saw the pale boy sagged on the bench... but this time, when she reached out to brush his hand, it too was scorching. He smiled strangely at her as she gasped in pain..._

"Hermione! Kill it," Harry said giving her a soft shake. She shrieked as his hand contacted her.

"Don't – don't..." she gasped, her breathing heavy.

"Just stab it," Harry said mildly, stepping back.

She gazed down at the cup, which winked up at her, rim a swirling red. Immediately, she felt an image worm into her, _she was thirteen, ready to strike Malfoy across the face_... Before the memory could continue, turn nightmarish, she closed her eyes tightly and thrust the sword downward with as much force as she could. There was a shill scream, a flash of red light that burned her closed eyes, and a pain in her hand... then all was silent.

"I think that is the real sword," Harry said quietly.

She fell to her knees, drained. Ron stepped over, to stroke her back, but she recoiled from his touch. "Did you all see those... those things..." she whispered.

"No..." Ron said softly.

The slight hush that had fallen after the destruction of the Horcrux was soon broken. "What was that thing?" Malfoy shouted. Hermione opened her eyes to see him crouched in front of her, eyes wide in shock, running his hand through his disheveled hair. He was looking from her to the cracked cup. "What in Merlin's name was that?"

"A Horcrux," she murmured, as Ron winced.

"Um, Hermione? Should we really be telling – "

"It's fine, Ron," said Harry. "A Horcrux is – "

"Horcrux?" Malfoy said, standing up, his breathing a bit elevated. "Horcrux. Horcrux, you said? Horcrux..." He paled slightly. "I know something about that..."

"What?" Harry said, stepping closer. "You know of Horcruxes? But how?"

"I don't know, I don't know... just heard something, maybe? Yeah, I heard it somewhere... it has something to do with The Dark Lord, right? Something about..." he squinted, "something about _you_, Potter..." He frowned deeply.

"Horcruxes are what You-Know-Who has been using to stay alive," Harry said slowly. "He can't really die until they are all destroyed... that's how he came back, you see."

"So why did it... scream like that?"

"I bit of his soul was in it... Hermione killed it."

"Oh." He met her eyes for a moment. "I see." He paused a moment, frowning again. "I – I don't like that word... it leaves..." he gave a nervous shrug. "It leaves a sour feeling in my mind, if you know what I mean..."

"It's very dark magic," Hermione said softly, still clutching the sword.

"Yes... I suppose..." He frowned, thoughtful. "Where did I hear it, though? I just can't remember, can't... can't figure it out..."

"You're a Death Eater, for heaven's sake!" Ron said, rolling his eyes. "You could have just picked it up somewhere."

_Lucius Malfoy was in posession of a Horcrux, _Hermione thought, _and I bet he's never heard the word. Voldemort didn't discuss his secrets with his followers._ She thought of speaking up, but, looking at Malfoy, she didn't wish to confuse him any more. He was taking in a lot of strange information, taking part in a lot of strange activities. Better to leave things alone, for now.

Malfoy nodded absently to Ron. "I... don't like it. He glared down at the mutilated cup. "I don't like it one bit."

"Agh!" Harry suddenly cried out. Hermione stood up sharply, turning to see him as he crumpled to the ground, hand on his scar.

She took a step closer, but stopped when Ron shook his head. "Let it happen," he said quietly, wincing as he watched his friend squirm.

"Is – is he okay?" Malfoy asked, dumbfounded.

"'Course not," Ron said. "But this is nothing new."

"What?" He looked at Hermione, eyes wide.

She bit her lip. "It's his connection to You-Know-Who." He squinted at her, obviously waiting for her to continue. She didn't.

After a few minutes, Harry opened his eyes. With a shiver, he pushed himself to his feet. "He knows," he said hoarsely.

"He knows what?" asked Malfoy.

"He knows that we stole the Horcrux! He knows, and he's going to check where the others are, and the last one is at Hogwarts. I knew it. I _knew _it."

"What?" Ron gaped.

"What did you see? How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"What? You don't trust him?" Malfoy asked. "If Potter says it's at Hogwarts, I'm willing to bet that's where it is. What is it?"

"The last Horcrux." Harry said.

"No, I mean what is it? Another cup?"

"Don't know, probably not a cup - "

"Did you see where in Hogwarts it is?" Ron asked.

"No, he was concentrating on warning Snape, he didn't think about exactly where it is – "

"So," Malfoy said, frowning, "You'll be searching for something, though you don't really know what, somewhere inside of Hogwarts, though you don't really know where."

"Yes. Exactly." Harry affirmed, pulling out the invisibility cloak.

"Wait, _wait_!" Hermione cried. "You're not just planning on just _going_, are you? We haven't got a plan, we need to – "

"We need to get going! Can you imagine what he's going to do once he realized the ring and locket are gone? What if he moves the Hogwarts Horcrux, decides it isn't safe enough?"

"But how will we get in?" She asked. It was lunacy, they had no hope!

"We'll go to Hogsmeade," he said quickly, "and try to work something out once we see what the protection around the school's like. Get under the cloak, Hermione."

"But we don't really fit, and Malfoy – "

"It'll be dark, no one's going to notice our feet. Umm, Malfoy..." He bit his lip, looking up at their pale companion.

Malfoy gave a weak smile. "I'm pretty good at disillusion charms. I'll be around. Let's just pick somewhere to meet up."

"Hog's Head," Harry said without hesitation, "Behind the shop. You know the place?"

"Yeah."

On the opposite shore of the lake, the dragon stepped away from the water and took to the darkening skies, great wings beating at the air. Hermione watched it as it climbed up and over a mountain. "Will it be alright?" She whispered to no one.

"You sound like Hagrid," Ron laughed softly. "It's a dragon, Hermione, it can look after itself."

Malfoy chucked.

Sighing, Hermione walked over to Harry and Ron, standing between them. Malfoy waited silently as Harry pulled the cloak over them, tugging it as far down as possible. Hermione watched as he examined the seemingly empty space where they had been standing. His grey eyes dropped to their feet, still quite visible in the grass. He smirked, before pulling out a wand and muttering to himself. Before to long, only his faint outline could be seen.

"Now," Harry called, and each of them turned on the spot, anticipating just what waited for them in Hogsmeade, the town where they had spent so many cheerful hours in the not too distant past.

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: **Thank you all so much for the reviews! Particularly MyMagicalExistencex14... I'm flattered. Very, very flattered. Anyways, keep the reviewing up! It really helps motivate me in writing!


	11. The Other Dumbledore

**A/N: **So sorry for the wait! I am afraid that I have been stricken with the curse of August in a town that revolves around its college... whether you are preparing to go back to school, preparing to go back to work, or simply dealing with the elevated traffic levels, spare time is a lot harder to come by. Sadly, from this time forward, my updates will probably be less frequent.

-o-o-o-

Disclaimer: Amazingly enough, my diabolical plots to take over the rights to Harry Potter have not yet worked! Curses, foiled again!

Chapter 11: The Other Dumbledore

After a tense moment of blackness, Hermione opened her eyes to see the darkened streets of Hogsmeade. A wave of memories hit her, hard, but she pushed them away. She had no time for them, she had to think of a plan –

Before she could finish her thought, a terrible scream echoed through the streets, shrill and inhuman. She heard Malfoy curse fiercely a ways off, and even as she glanced at Harry, the door to The Three Broomsticks burst open, allowing about a dozen masked Death Eaters into the streets. One raised his wand, stopping the terrible screams.

"_Accio Cloak_!" one roared. Hermione felt Harry next to her shift, grabbing a hold of the Invisibility Cloak, though it did not move. The Summoning Charm had failed?

"Not under your wrapper, then, Potter?" yelled the Death Eater, before turning to his fellows. "Spread out. He's here."

The Death Eaters scattered, several coming toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The three backed into a nearby alleyway.

_This is lunacy, staying here! _Hermione thought. "Let's just leave!" She pleaded quietly to Harry. "Disapperate now!"

"What about Malfoy?" Ron whispered back.

Before anyone could respond, a Death Eater barked, "We know you're here, Potter, and there's no getting away! We'll find you!"

"They were ready for us," Harry whispered to them. "They set up that spell to tell them we'd come. I reckon they've done something to keep us here, trap us – "

"What about dementors?" they heard another Death Eater call. "Let'em have free rein, they'd find him quick enough!"

"The Dark Lord wants Potter dead by no hand but his – "

" – an' dementors won't kill him! The Dark Lord wants Potter's life, not his soul. He'll be easier to kill if he's been Kissed first!"

Several Death Eaters voiced agreement. Hermione bit her lip, looking around the alley, trying to find somewhere to duck, some way out...

"We're going to have to try to disapperate, Harry!" she whispered, biting her lip, hoping that Malfoy had already escaped, made it out... Even as the words left her lips, a chill came over her and the little light that was left on the streets went dim. The three of them turned on the spot, trying desperately to disapperate, but nothing happened... the Death Eaters had cast a spell preventing their exit.

They instead fled deeper into the alley. Hermione nervously cast a muffling charm on their feet, in a feeble attempt to slip away undetected.

The chill intensified. Hermione felt her hands grow stiff with cold. She knew without looking that the dementors were in the alley with them; she could hear their breaths rattling behind her. She turned to Harry, who was raising his wand, preparing to cast a Patronus. She wanted to stop him, wanted to cast the charm herself, (knowing that her Patronus was less recognizable than his,) but before she could move, he whispered, "_Expecto Patronum!_" The silver stag that had become his symbol burst from his wand, charging down the street. The line of dementors melted, fleeing the alley.

A yell of triumph sounded. "It's him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!"

Hermione drew in a breath, backing into the wall behind her. Suddenly, a door opened, pouring light into the alley. "Potter, in here, quick!" ordered a rough voice. The three obeyed without question, slipping into the seedy room. "Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!" A tall figure pushed out to the streets, slamming the door behind him.

Heart racing, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran through what Hermione now recognized as the bar of the Hog's Head Inn, slipping behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a rickety stairway. They climbed up madly, ducking into the sitting room that lay beyond, a shabby room with a large oil painting of a young girl. Hearing shouts from the street below, they moved over to the window.

"Do you think Malfoy's still out there?" Hermione whispered.

"Shh!" A familiar voice hissed from behind them. "I'm here!" She turned around sharply, seeing his faint outline, still under the Disillusion Charm.

She smiled in relief. "How'd you follow us?" she asked, as softly as possible.

"Feet. Be quiet!"

She looked down at their uncovered, still visible feet, smiling before turning back to argument outside. The tall man who had saved them, who she now recognized as the bartender for the Inn below them, was bellowing at the Death Eaters. "So what? You send dementors down my street, I'll send a Patronus back at 'em! I'll not be having 'em near me, I've told you that, I'm not having it!"

"That wasn't your Patronus!" the Death Eater shot back. "That was a stag, it was Potter's!"

"Stag!" The barman huffed, pulling out his wand. "Stag! You idiot – _Expecto Patronum!_" A large horned creature – a goat – flew from his wand.

The Death Eaters snapped back a response, the barman roared his reply. Back and forth, back and forth. Before too long, though, the Death Eaters retreated, believing the barman had triggered the alarm in the streets and had cast a Patronus to scatter the dementors. With a few harsh words of warning, they strode away from the bar, back toward the main street.

Seeing them leave, Hermione let out the breath that she hadn't known she had been holding, moaning. She pushed her way out from the Cloak, away from her friends, collapsing onto a chair. Behind her, Harry pulled the Cloak off and closed the curtains... but she was hardly paying attention. She was recounting the past few minutes, marvelling at yet another close escape, wondering why the barman had chosen to help them...

Even as she wondered this, the man came into the room, glaring. "You cursed fools," he muttered. "What were you thinking, coming here?"

"Thank you!" Harry said. "We can't thank you enough. You saved our lives."

He grunted in reply.

Hermione heard Malfoy, nearby, mutter some incantation under his breath. Glancing toward his voice, she watched as he slowly solidified, came into sight.

The barman reached for a wand, but Harry quickly said, "He's with us, he's been helping us."

"Ah," the barman grunted. He squinted his piercing blue eyes, examining. "You're that Malfoy kid?" Malfoy nodded, looking at the ground. "Ah... I knew something was up with you," he stroked his wiry beard.

"Oh?" Malfoy flatly asked, looking at the man, face hard. They were about the same height, but Malfoy, slumped, had to look up to meet his eyes.

"Well, when a kid disappears from Hogwarts, I hear about it, and the idiot Death Eaters don't talk about the Malfoys anymore."

He turned back to Harry, who was gazing at the barman in wonder. "It's _your_ eye that I've been seeing in the mirror!" Harry declared. He was looking from the barman's eyes to something under the portrait... a small mirror. A silence fell over the group. "You sent Dobby." Harry continued.

The barman nodded stiffly. "Thought he'd be with you. Where've you left him?"

"He's with Ron's brother," Harry said. After another pause, he spoke again. "You're Aberforth."

The barman said nothing, instead turning to light the lamps in the room.

Harry walked across the room, picking up the small mirror. "How did you get this?" he pressed.

"Bought it from Dung 'bout a year ago," said the barman... Aberforth. "Albus told me what it was. Been trying to keep an eye out for you."

From nearby her, Hermione heard Ron give a gasp. "The silver doe!" He exclaimed. "Was that you too?"

"What are you talking about?" Aberforth asked.

"Someone sent a doe Patronus to us!"

"Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son." Malfoy scoffed. "Haven't I just proved my Patronus is a goat?"

Hermione watched as Ron's face fell, ears reddening. "Oh," he muttered, before looking up, glaring defensively. "Yeah... well, I'm hungry!"

"I got food," Aberforth said, leaving the room briefly. When he returned, his carried a tray of dishes, filled with bread and cheese. He set it on a small table, placing a large jug nearby. Before he could back away, Ron, Harry, and Hermione rushed in, eating ravenously. Hermione had not even noticed how hungry she was until she held a piece of bread in her hand. Suddenly, the breakfast that they had eaten at Shell Cottage, just that morning, seemed so distant, an age ago... she scarfed food down, almost as quickly as Ron did beside her.

It wasn't until she was finished, her stomach aching slightly, that she realized Malfoy was still across the room, staring at Aberforth oddly. She swallowed her last bit of bread. "Malfoy?" She called to him. He blinked, shook his head quickly, and turned toward her. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?"

He looked down. "No... I'm not really hungry." Quickly, he glanced at Aberforth. "Can I – can I leave here?"

Aberforth shook his head. "You'll all have to leave, but wait until tomorrow. Can't be done by night, you heard what happens if anyone moves outdoors during darkness. Wait for daybreak when curfew lifts, then you can put your Cloak back on and set out on foot. Get right out of Hogsmeade, up into the mountains, and you'll be able to disapperate there. Might see Hagrid. He's been hiding in a cave up there with Grawp ever since they tried to arrest him."

"So I can't dissaperate from here?" Malfoy asked looking down.

"That's what I said."

"We're not leaving," Harry said firmly. "We need to get into Hogwarts."

"We?" Malfoy snapped suddenly, standing up. "I don't really need that, you know." Hermione looked at him, confused. "You know what _I_ need? I need to get back to – to the manor, I need to..." He tightened his jaw.

"You, at least, aren't stupid." Aberforth nodded, blue eyes narrowed. Malfoy didn't meet them.

"Malfoy..." Hermione said quietly.

He ignored her. "Sir? Could I please... could I please just wait outside the room? I have nothing to discuss." He glared at the floor, face set.

"Of course." Aberforth said gruffly. Malfoy stood up, walking toward the door stiffly, determinately.

Hermione,worried, got to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute," she said quickly, running to catch up with Malfoy. He had stopped, turning around to give her an odd look, but didn't argue, following her as she opened the door and sat down on the wooden stairs.

He settled himself a few steps below her, knees drawn up to his chest. In the dim light of the narrow stairway, his face seemed particularly wan. After a pause, he asked, "Did you need anything?"

"Do _you_ need anything?" She questioned back. "What's wrong? You were fine just a short while ago, I mean, as fine as could be expected..." She trailed off, the words that she was usually so familiar with failing her. "Why did you even come here with us if you just wanted to go back to Malfoy Manor?"

There was a pause before he answered. "It was just so... quick, with the – " he hesitated a moment before spitting, "the _Horcruxes_, and the dragon, and the Dark Lord and all... I just got caught up in it, I guess." He fell silent. "Besides, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go to the Manor..." he looked up at her, smirking feebly. "I wasn't sure that I wanted to meet this 'real' Draco Malfoy."

"But you do now."

"I guess..." But he didn't sound at all firm. "It certainly sounds better than Potter's plan."

"You didn't have problems with this plan before, really..."

"Well, I hadn't though through it yet!" he spat, suddenly quite loud. "Well, I have now! And it's sheer, pure, lunacy! He doesn't even know what idiotic thing we're looking for!" He sneered. "It's not thought out, it can only end poorly."

"Yes... but I thought you understood that before." Hermione pressed.

"Well, I suppose... but it hadn't hit me yet..." His voice lowered again. He sighed, fingering his hair.

After a pause, Hermione asked carefully, "Is something wrong Mr. Dumbledore?"

Malfoy stiffened, turning to look at her anxiously. "Dumbledore?"

"Yes... the bartender. Aberforth Dumbledore."

"He's... he's related to – "

"His brother, yes." Hermione nodded.

"Ah." he sniffed. "That makes sense. Well... he makes me nervous. Something about his eyes... or the beard. Well, something about him..." He leaned back, seeming to be at a loss for words. "It's like that word 'Horcrux,'" he finally continued, wincing. "It just makes me feel ill."

"Ah," Hermione said. She shifted slightly on the step, which creaked precariously. "So... because of that, you're going back?"

"What?" Malfoy asked, glaring up at her. "Who said it was because of that? I just said that he unnerves me. That's all. I'm going back because this plan is stupid and will get us all..." He trailed off, smiling grimly. Hermione noted that, oddly, he now seemed far more in tune than he had before he admitted to disliking Aberforth. Though he still glared at her, it was heated... unlike the lukewarm demeanor that he had so recently been using.

"Well, either way, we won't be seeing too much more of him. No need to worry." She stood up, having nothing else to say, and walked back to the door. To her surprise, Malfoy rose as well.

"I'll accompany you in, if you don't mind," he said. "Don't want to miss any more of Potter's brilliant plan." He tried for a smirk. "It should make for good entertainment."

As she touched the doorknob, though, she became aware of the elevated yells from within the room. She retracted her hand quickly. Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Maybe we should wait a bit," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I think that now would be a rather awkward time to go in, don't you?"

"Yeah," Malfoy said, shifting his weight. "Potter does have quite the set of lungs, doesn't he?"

Hermione gave a rather flat chuckle.

There was something of a silence... not really an uncomfortable one, but certainly not a pleasant one. Hermione listened to the yells behind the door, unable to make out the words, but attempting nonetheless. Malfoy studied the floor... rough, but clean. Finally, he broke the silence, asking, "Do you... want me to go to Hogwarts with you ridiculous, courageous idiots?"

Hermione smiled. "You don't need to put yourself into any danger that you don't want to, Malfoy."

"Of course not!" Malfoy huffed. "But still. Do you want me to?"

The question made her feel a little... dizzy. Ill. The honest answer was 'yes', naturally. They could use all the help they could get. But she wasn't sure how he would take the answer. What was he implying with the question?

"Well, I'd be terribly sorry to lose your spectacular company." She finally said with false cheerfulness, even going as far as to curtsy to him.

"Oh, that goes without saying," Malfoy smirked. "Who else could hold up any sort of intelligent conversation? Weasley?"

"Hey, be nice to Ron. Really," she said, grinning. "Don't make me mock Parkinson."

He chuckled at the words, the mirror of what he had said to her the day before. "Touché." He fell silent, then went back to studying the floor, seeming almost... disappointed.

In the silence that followed, Hermione heard the voices inside the room drop. "I think we can go in now," she whispered, turning the knob. Quietly, she slipped inside, holding the door open for Malfoy. She glanced up... and promptly froze in wonder.

The portrait of the little girl had swung open, revealing a doorway of sorts, from which Neville Longbottom stepped out, crying, "I knew you'd come! _I knew it!_" He jumped down from the mantle, wrapping Harry in a great hug. He looked both terrible and great at the same time: though his face was marred with cuts and bruises and his robed ripped, he glowed with happiness and confidence. Hermione, watching as he turned to embrace Ron, realized just how much she had missed all of her other friends that year.

Neville turned to her, and she readied herself for a hug. However, as he stepped closer, his eyes drifted to the doorway, just next to her.

"Malfoy!" He cried, whipping out his wand.

"Neville, wait!" she shrieked, as red light flashed across the room. Neville looked at her, eyes wide, but the spell at left his wand already. There was a crash... as the spell hit the wall behind Malfoy, who stood, perhaps a bit shaken, but otherwise fine.

"Granger, I didn't know you cared." he said quietly, almost smiling as Hermione's face flushed. "No need to worry, Neville couldn't hit me if I were standing right next to him." His lip twitched upward.

Neville frowned. Just looking at him, Hermione got the feeling that he didn't miss the target much anymore. "So," he said, tuning to Harry. "What is he doing here?"

"He's been helping us, Neville," Harry said quickly. "But what's happened to you?" He looked concerned, examining his friend's battered face.

"What? This?" Neville fingered a large cut, before dismissing his injuries with a quick head shake. "This is nothing. Seamus is worse. You'll see. Wait, what's happened to you?" he gestured to Harry's burns, from the Gringotts vault.

"Oh!" Hermione cried, reaching for her bag. Quickly, as Harry tried to answer Neville's question as shortly as possible, she sorted through it, pulling out the essence of dittany. "Here!" she said, rushing to Harry and handing him the bottle.

"Oh, thanks," he absently replied, spreading some over his hands and face. He handed her the bottle back, which she stowed away again.

"Well, shall we go, then?" Neville asked, walking back toward the portrait.

"Go where?" Hermione asked.

"Hogwarts, of course!" Neville said. "This is the only way in and out anymore... they've blocked off all of the other secret entrances and tunnels."

"Oh..."

She looked back at Malfoy, smiled wryly, and stepped up to the mantel. Neville held out a hand to her, helping her climb up and through the hole behind the portrait.

From behind her, she heard, "No, no, I'll get myself up, thank you." She turned, grinning as she saw Malfoy working his way on top of the mantle.

"So you are coming!" She called to him.

"Yeah," he grunted, pulling himself up and brushing off his robes. "After all, it'd be a shame for you to miss out on my – what was it? – 'spectacular' company."

After him, Ron climbed up, followed by Neville, who still glanced uneasily at Malfoy. After a moment of talking to Aberforth, Harry clambered up as well.

The hole behind the portrait led to a smooth stone passageway lit with brass lamps. After a brief pause to share glances with each other, the group set off down the tunnel, toward Hogwarts. Though they didn't know exactly where it was, they were certainly walking toward the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes. That, at least, was sure.

-o-o-o-

**ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking:** This chapter was not very fun to write. I had to stick pretty much to what Rowling wrote... and it made it rather boring. That is why I skipped the Dumbledores' story. I enjoyed reading it in the book, but I couldn't do anything with it here. I hope no one minds.

Have anything to say? Please review, it _does_ do good! In the last chapter, after having blatantly brought up the taboo earlier in story, I forgot all about it. I had Hermione say Voldemort's name. Oops! Luckily, because of a review from MyMagicalExistencex14, I was able to fix it, thus slightly improving my story. See? Reviews help!

Speaking of reviews, I got my 50th last chapter! So, yellow 14, if you are so inclined, feel free to send me a message with a prompt for either a drawing or a one shot, and I will write/sketch something up for you! (Harry Potter related, please, and PG rated or lower.)

Thank you all!


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